Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I did, only because it kept me a few feet away from her body. Even if I thought we were ready—and we weren’t—she was drunk. There was zero chance I was fucking her tonight.
The whole no regrets plan meant I couldn’t leave room for them, not that I caused them.
My thighs hit the edge of the bed, and she pushed. I fell back onto my elbows and immediately recognized my error, because she climbed up over me, straddling my cock, rubbing that thin layer of lace over the eager head that pushed its way past the band of my athletic pants.
I hissed, my hands gripping her hips to still her movements.
“I wish I knew what I got wrong,” she muttered, looking at her negligée.
“It looks perfect to me,” I answered.
“That’s because you’re a boy.” Her eyes raked down my chest but stopped just short of where my cock reached for my bellybutton. Hopefully, she couldn’t see because if her deft fingers got ahold of me... “Well, you’re a man. A boy would have fucked me in Vegas,” she admitted with a huff.
“Is that what you want?” I challenged, sitting up and yanking up my pants so the head of my dick went back where it was supposed to instead of inside Langley. “You want a boy to fuck you? To take you once so you’re immediately gratified in the shallowest way?”
“I highly doubt anything about you is shallow,” she smirked, rocking her hips so she rubbed against my dick.
Pure, blinding need raced down my spine and lodged in my balls. Fuck, I wanted her. But I always had. That was nothing new.
“Trust me,” I told her, thrusting slowly so she felt every inch of me through the lace of her underwear. “There’s more than enough for you. Now answer me? Do you want a boy?”
“I want you,” she groaned, her hands back in my hair.
“Well, I’m not a boy to take what he wants and leave you with an orgasm or two, Langley. I’m a man focused on building your anticipation, your pleasure. Because once I get my hands on you, there won’t be an orgasm or two, there will be a dozen. You’re going to want me so badly that you come the moment I brush my finger over your clit.”
She whimpered.
“A boy would take what he wants because he doesn’t see past the need. This man knows exactly what’s on the other side of it, and it’s so much bigger than either of us. I won’t settle for a hurried wedding night in Vegas, or a quick romp in an airplane, wife. I’ll have you mindless with need, to where I’m all you think about,” I promised, our eyes locked in a battle we were both going to win.
“I’m there,” she promised.
“You’re not,” I shook my head with a small, wry smile. “I’m there because I’ve got a year on you, Langley. I’ve wanted you under me for a year. I think about you from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I think about the taste of your lips and the feel of your tongue. I fantasize about what your eyes will look like when you come and what the rest of you will feel like pressed against my lips. I wonder if you’ll clench around my tongue when I fuck you with my mouth. The only time I don’t think about you is when I’m on the ice, and even then, you sneak into my thoughts.”
Her hazy eyes widened. “I think you could make me come from just talking to me,” she whispered.
“By the time I take you, trust me, you’ll be there,” I promised. “This isn’t just about sex between us, Langley, and I’m not fucking this up just to get off once. Once won’t ever be enough with you.”
Her eyes dropped to my lips, and then she kissed me.
It was wild, wet, and thorough. My hands gripped her hips, keeping her still while I took her mouth relentlessly. When her hands drifted down my chest, I moved them back to my neck. When she went to untie her top, I moved her hands again. When she tried to slide back down my body, I kept her drunk ass right where she was.
Kisses were all she was getting tonight, no matter how badly my body hated me.
When she rubbed against me again, I flipped her to her back. “Stop trying to get me to take you,” I growled into her neck.
“You just feel really good,” she slurred. Her words were becoming increasingly unintelligible as if the full effect of her afternoon and evening of drinking was just now hitting her.
“Yeah, well, not as good as you do,” I promised.
“Can you please turn this thing? It’s starting to rub,” she flipped onto her stomach, leaving me with a view of the perfect curve of her ass with the thong threaded between her cheeks.