Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“I’m all yours,” I promised, whimpering as my legs slipped from his shoulders to his hands, holding me open, gripping my calves as he slid back and then drove forward, the muscles, even in such a short time, allowing him to plunge deep, and then drag almost out, before he stuffed me full again.
I was holding on to his shoulders and he was rutting inside me when he suddenly stopped, pulled free, rolled me to my hands and knees, and then rammed back inside, fisting his hand in my hair, using it like a leash to yank my head back as I lifted my ass to take the pounding he wanted to give me, the one I was begging for.
We were loud, we always were at home, and anyone who was in that outer room would know exactly what we were doing. The thought went in and out of my head as the orgasm that was tightening my balls took every drop of my concentration. I roared his name as I spurted over the bedcovers, my muscles tightening, not allowing for any movement but the endless pumping as he came inside me for so long that cum began rolling down the backs of my thighs.
“I can’t live without you,” he choked out. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“That’s the great sex talking,” I teased him as my thighs started shaking.
Slowly, gently, he unwound my hair from his fist but stopped before letting go of the very end. “I wish I had my phone. I need a picture of your hair wrapped in my hand.”
“You were so proper before you met me.”
“It’s true,” he concurred. “I never let myself go before you. I knew you wouldn’t judge and you’d let me have you outside in the deep grass in the middle of summer even though we both got chewed up by mosquitos.”
I started laughing.
“You let me put down my coat in the snow before the holidays, just us outside, freezing to death but still not stopping.”
“Never stopping,” I breathed out as he eased so gently, so carefully from my still clenching hole.
“My favorite was when I ordered you to ride me in that pocket of trees while the leaves fell all around us.”
“It was going to be beautiful,” I said dreamily.
He cackled, grabbing me, rolling us both over, more than once, nearly off the bed before he corrected and saved us from falling, wrapping his arms around me. “It wasn’t going to be beautiful, it was going to be hot,” he countered. “But we never made it out of the car. You sucked my cock until I was hard and dripping, and then you took all of it at once, fast and dirty, and had me, hands digging into my shoulders, and you came all over my uniform.”
“This sounds like you’re complaining,” I said, taking a small bite of the side of his neck. “Are you?”
“No, sir,” he assured me. “You may have me anytime, anywhere that you please. I am yours. You bring out a new and possessive side of me I had no idea was there, and things that I would be embarrassed to do with anyone else, you say saddle up.”
I was quiet a moment, and he snickered.
“I’m sorry, did you say saddle up?”
His laughter was such a good sound, so much joy there, but I was startled when I heard a loud ping.
“What was that?” I asked him.
“I have no idea.”
“Did it come from in here? Maybe the bathroom?”
“I’ll go look.”
“Not without me you’re not.”
“Listen, I used you hard, harder than I probably should have and—”
“No, you don’t apologize for great sex and giving me what I was begging for.”
He tipped his head as though in thought. “There was, in fact, an awful lot of please, Lorne, and faster, Lorne, and—”
“Can we go check the bathroom, please?” I muttered, trying to push out of his arms that I was wrapped in like a vise.
“It’s always my pleasure to do everything you want. You get that, right?”
I was going to continue to banter with him, but his voice cracked a bit, like he needed tender words from me, from my heart, not my brain.
“As it is mine,” I promised him, pressing my face into the hollow of his throat. “I want you all the time, anytime, but just holding your hand and kissing you, bringing you lunch, and when it rained, that first week in November…when we went to Albany with Amanda and Eddie and the kids. Do you remember?”
“Of course I remember,” he said gruffly, clearly pleased, as he brushed at his eyes. “You wore your canvas sneakers, even though I told you not to, and I had to carry you on my back for three blocks.”
I was smiling, and I couldn’t stop. “That was terrible for you.”
“Yes, it was. Absolutely awful. All that hugging and kissing and breathing down the side of my neck, putting goose bumps over every square inch of my—”