Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
That turned me the fuck on.
I lifted up her shirt and found her little thong, pulling it off her sexy legs that I could stare at for days. Then I bent her legs back and dropped my face between her thighs to kiss that perfect little pussy.
She inhaled a deep gasp when she felt me come for her hard, with my lips, tongue, and even a bit of my teeth.
The urge to have her, eat her, and inhale her came over me, and with my hard dick pinned between me and the mattress, I went to town on her flesh. It wasn’t something I normally did, not when my conquests were mostly transactional and purely physical, but with her, I wanted to drown in it. In her smell, her taste, her softness.
Her fingers dug into my hair, and she gently rocked into my face. She pulled up her shirt to expose her tits like she was warm from the flush of heat that burned her flesh. She ground and moaned, and even when I didn’t mean to make it happen, she came with a whimper like the rush was as pleasurable as it was painful.
I could eat her for fucking dinner, but my dick was about to throw a tantrum. It wanted to slide through the cream of my labor. I lifted my body and yanked my shirt free before I got my boots and bottoms off. My dick was so fucking hard it hurt. I moved over her, pinned her like the flexible doll she was, and shoved my hard dick inside her with a moan that made my spine shiver.
I nailed her into the mattress, pounded into her like she was a whore instead of my woman, so desperate for her I couldn’t control myself. I felt like a boy instead of a man, desperate to come inside that pussy as many times as her little body could take.
Chapter 4
Constantine
When I stepped out of the shower, she was still in bed where I’d left her, her thong on the floor where it had landed after I tossed it aside. Her eyes were closed, and my shirt was like a comfortable dress.
I pulled on a clean pair of boxers. “Hungry, sweetheart?”
She opened her tired eyes and looked at me. Then she gave a slight nod.
“Dinner is in the dining room.”
“It is?”
“Elio uses a different door to get to it.”
“Oh . . .” She pulled on a clean thong, then joined me in the dining room, a ten-seater table with a table runner and low centerpieces. We sat across from each other, and when I removed the silver lids, I revealed a meal of steak, greens, and potatoes for me, while she had a piece of salmon with rice and white asparagus.
For the first few minutes, we ate in silence. I could tell she was tired because she wasn’t normally up this late. But for me, I was wired. “Where were your shoots?” I asked.
“I had an engagement shoot in the afternoon and then a kid’s birthday party in the evening.”
“Fun.”
She shrugged. “I don’t care for the birthday ones, but they pay the bills.”
“Have you worked on your art photography?”
She sliced into her salmon and took a few bites. I could tell she liked it when it was on our salad the other day. She preferred seafood to steak, that was for sure. “Honestly, haven’t really had time. Haven’t been inspired either. So many changes in such a short amount of time. I’m still getting settled.”
“Have you spoken to Enzo?”
“No,” she said. “I highly doubt I’ll ever hear from him again.”
Not unless he wanted a broken nose.
“You think he and Luna will make it?”
She released a quiet laugh. “I doubt it. He might stick it out for a while because he sacrificed everything to have her, but who knows. Truthfully, I don’t care. I don’t think about him anymore. I’m either too busy with work or too busy thinking about you.”
I grinned before I took a bite. “Yeah?”
“Come on,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t play dumb.”
“What do you think about exactly?”
“I don’t know . . . stuff.”
“Ooh . . . I like stuff.”
Her cheeks started to flush, so I knew exactly what kind of stuff was on her mind.
“You think about me when you touch yourself, sweetheart?”
She stiffened at the question like she couldn’t believe I asked. “What about you?”
“I don’t jerk off.”
“Right. Sure, you don’t.”
“I don’t,” I said seriously. “That’s why I pay for sex sometimes. I prefer the flesh of a woman instead of my own. I grew out of that in my early twenties and never went back.”
She seemed to believe me, seemed to remember that I was always honest with her because I didn’t care enough to lie about anything. “So, when we weren’t together . . . were you with other women?”