Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
“I had to go fast, baby, so I didn’t hurt you,” he whispers. I nod, trying to catch my breath. He stays deep and still, allowing me to adjust to the overwhelming sensation that has my heartbeat sounding in my ears. His breathing is heavy, his eyes closed, as he rests his forehead onto mine, trying to calm himself. Holy fuck, I am so out of my depth here. This isn’t sex. This is a life-changing event. He opens his eyes and I see a depth of arousal I have never seen before in any man, in life or porn, and it’s somewhat unsettling. This is going to hurt.
“I’m going to move now, Presh. Are you OK?” I nod and he circles his hips as if trying to stretch me. God, I can’t stretch any more. I’ve reached my physical limits. He slowly pulls out, his eyes shutting as he does, and gently pushes back in. OK that felt good, no pain. I will myself to relax. He pushes forward again and circles his hips, repeating the addictive movement of before. I grab his behind, my lust taking over, and the next time he pulls out I pull him back into me.
“Again,” I whisper. “Faster.” He bites my neck painfully and slams back into me, his physical limits reached, and he starts to move against me so hard the bed sounds like it’s going to break when it hits the wall. I groan as I run my hands over his perspiration-covered muscly body. His kisses turn aggressive and I am so overwhelmed at what this man is doing to me I can’t even kiss him back. I lie there with my mouth open, groaning into his mouth.
“Fucking hell, Natasha, you fuck me so good.” I moan a deep sound that I don’t even recognize as he slams repeatedly into me. I can feel it coming. Shit, it might kill me. One, two, three hard lunges and, that’s it, I scream out again, the sound bouncing off my bedroom walls as I orgasm hard, my body contracting around his.
“Fuck, yes,” he yells as he slams into me, his grip on my behind so hard I think I might bruise. He groans as I feel his hot seed seep into the marrow of my bones, taking with it any reservation I ever had about him. We are both breathless and panting as he drops his head to my shoulder in silence. Tears fill my eyes again as I am overcome with emotion.
“Fucking hell, Natasha, what was that?” he pants. I’m too breathless to answer. I giggle and he pulls me into an embrace and kisses me again. A slow beautiful heartfelt kiss, one that is tenderly equal with the sex we just had. I don’t remember anything more, fatigue setting in. But as I drift into an exhausted sleep it is the words he whispered to me that replay in my head. I only have one night with you, I only have one night with you, I only have one night with you. No, I’m sorry, Josh, I can’t let that happen. I’m keeping you this time.
9
Natasha
I awake to the glow of the lights in the downtown city beaming through my window. It’s dark. How long have we slept? I look at the beautiful man sleeping beside me, out cold and sleeping like a baby. I roll onto my side and smile as I watch him. He’s like an Adonis, every muscle in his body on show. Pure male perfection. His dark lashes fan his face, and his large red lips are gently open, his chest rises and falls slowly. I smile again as I note that he has a hairy chest, one of my hot triggers. If I had a magic wand and designed my perfect male specimen, this is what it would look like. His arm is under my head and he is facing me.
My gaze drops to his tattoo, my name down the length of his torso. My twenty-first birthday present. That is some serious heavy shit going on there. My mind retraces the day we have spent together, the love we have made. It’s been perfect, everything I could have wished for and then some.
However, one thing is marring my afterglow. The ‘we only have one night together’ statement. Does he really only want one night? Why in the hell would he have my name on his body if he didn’t care? Is it the cousin thing? Surely not. If I don’t care, why would he? My mind goes back to the restaurant: I want a woman who loves to fuck as much as I do. A mousy woman who I have to beg for sex won’t cut it with me. Think, Natasha. Think. What’s my plan of attack? I know one thing: I am so not done with him. I want more, much more. I need time, time where he is forced to think about us, time without other females. I watch him sleep for another half an hour with my brain in overdrive. This is where I want to be, naked in bed with him. Even the thought of going to the bathroom is unappealing, as bursting as I am. Unable to hold it any longer, I slowly sit up and head to the bathroom. I decide to take a quick shower. If I want to be irresistible, I need to smell good. After drying, I don’t dress and head back to my bedroom to see him stretching as he gives me a sleepy smile.