Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He’d already done his job, delivered a promise that most men broke, and way ahead of schedule, so I kissed him to slow the thrusts created by that hard ass and roll him to his back. He was propped up by the pile of pillows at the headboard, and his skin was slightly slick from the sweat his hardworking body had produced.
I grabbed his dick that felt like a hot steel pipe and sank down over his length, sealing our bodies together much quicker than the first time because I was even slicker than I’d been at the start of this.
He gave a quiet moan as he gripped my hips in his big hands, his thumbs across my stomach.
My hands planted on his chest, and I rode that dick like a fucking American rodeo queen. The whole thing, tip to base to his sack. “You’re so fucking hot,” I said breathlessly, looking into those same hard eyes that had burned me with their stare from across the room. Every part of him that I touched was hard with muscle, not a layer of cushion anywhere. He possessed heavy shoulders and a bulletproof chest. The black ink over his tanned skin was beautiful, but I hadn’t had the time to look at the art he thought was worthy of being preserved on his body. “Best fucking dick.”
With nothing to lose, I felt free. I wouldn’t see this guy again, and I could go back to my life with the confidence to face the next phase. Whenever I had to deal with Enzo’s next wave of indifference, I would have this memory as armor, a reminder that there were plenty of fish in the sea.
Or plenty of dick.
His hands worked to help me up and down so I wouldn’t fatigue too quickly. His strength was incredible, because sometimes I could feel him lift me, like I was a fucking barbell. All his muscles were flexed, the veins popping across his canvas of flesh, his jawline hard as he focused on me, those espresso-colored eyes borderline maniacal in their intensity.
I’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship, but I was bouncing on this man’s dick and desperate for him to come inside me. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know whether I liked her . . . or thought she was kind of a slut.
His breathing changed, the tension tightened in his arms and his neck, the cords more prominent as he approached the finish. His hands dug into my flesh as he gripped me and increased the pace, telling me how badly he wanted to come.
I rocked my hips, gripped his shoulder like I was about to climb his mountain, and smashed that dick over and over. “Come inside me.” I didn’t know who the fuck I was. I’d never been a verbal lover. I’d never been such an emotional or chaotic mess. But I had nothing to fear, not when I would have a clean slate tomorrow, a new page.
I’d almost lost this opportunity because I was too much of a pussy to get out of my chair and fight for him. I’d chosen to waste my time fighting for someone who didn’t give a damn about me. But I’d learned from that error, and now that I had this man to myself, I was going to fuck him like it was my last night on earth.
He came with a groan, gripping my hips and sealing me on his dick, dumping all his seed inside me, eyes almost angry from the surge of pleasure that hit him.
I’d never been more turned on.
He finished, his hands loosening their grip on my body, and the lethal edge to his gaze softened slightly. He slid his hands up my body, and he closed my tits within his grasp.
I waited for his dick to soften, waited for the come to start to sink toward my entrance, but neither of those things happened.
We both breathed a little hard as we looked at each other, the eyes of strangers piercing the other’s depths. It was just a second or two, but it was a connection I would never forget, a memory that would give me chills every time I thought of it.
He started to sit up and take me with him, moving me to my back with my head at the foot of the bed. He pulled out of me, and his dick was still at full mast and coated with a shiny sheen.
Then he turned me over and grabbed me by the hips, putting my ass in the air and planting my face against the duvet. He gripped the back of my hair like it was a leash, and he shoved himself inside me again.
“Oh Jesus.”
He pounded into me harder than he had before, clutching both of my wrists together against the small of my back, restraining me and pinning me to the mattress like there was somewhere else I’d rather be than taking his tank of a dick.