Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
He stills inside me, but his hands still roam freely. His kisses are dispersed like candy, and he murmurs, “So beautiful,” and, “Tastes of heaven,” against my skin. But what I needed wasn’t for him to stop. Now that I’ve had him, I need so much more than before. “Okay.”
He withdraws so fast that I don’t anticipate the power of the next thrust until I’m jerked on the bed. Anchoring his elbows against the top of my shoulders, he uses them as leverage to pull back to push in again and again. My mouth hangs open, but my throat is dry. The pain is there, but the pleasure overrides it.
I take a breath and move, bucking against him and apart, wanting more of this connection. And deeper. Wrapping my legs around him, I’m lifted off the bed every time he drives forward. My eyes are closed as I take him thrust by thrust, deeper until he’s all I feel on the inside.
The pauses are too quick to get my bearings on what’s happening and where. The scent of that musk, and soap, even a hint of cigarettes, fills my nostrils. The change in positions happening so fast. His hands are on my waist and squeezing my hips, kneading my breasts, and pinching my nipples.
My back arches as I finally release the moan I’d been holding in. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I chant on the verge of losing myself in the pain and pleasure, the stretch, and the emptiness when he leaves me.
The heat of his breath covers the wetness his mouth left, and if I regulate my breathing, I’d be able to hear the jaggedness of his breath as well. Running my fingers through his thick brown hair, I grab hold as if they offend me, biting my lip before needing to plead, “Please, don’t stop.”
But his body feels so good against mine—the hard abs, the muscular legs, the shoulders that feel protective as they consume me beneath him, and the erection that I’m finally getting used to. Releasing my breasts, he moves higher while his knee bumps up against the side of my legs, situated with his eyes on me, and I can’t hide my desire. I’ve been waiting for the one to come along, and he has shown up for overtime duty.
Squeezing him between my thighs like a captive, I loop a foot over his calf, creating my own leverage. He kisses me, this time with his body hovering just enough to control the pressure. He invades my mouth and body like he’s conquering new territory, giving me little reason to deny him the victory. “I never knew it could be so good,” I say with my mind caught up, analyzing how incredible he feels inside me.
“So good,” he says, breathing through each thrust. Reaching between us, he slides his fingers between my legs. My hips jolt when he touches my clit. Circling it, he teases, and I start to lose control. The slick sounds of our bonding . . .
Our bodies fit together so well. The all-consuming feel of him filling every part of me comes to a head when my body shivers and quakes beneath him. I pant, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding on like my life depends on it. “My Poet. My Poet, my Poet,” I utter on repeat, slipping off my tongue as if he owns me. He does. It’s only a thrust or two more before I’m sent spiraling into darkness and emerge where the brightest lights exist.
Clamping my eyes closed, I feel the tremors surge through my veins, and I come for him. And when I’m slick and floating, he comes right after me. “Oh fuck, babe.” He bites his lip as his erratic push and pull, thrust and release, steadies in pace and then ceases.
Keats drops on top of me. Although he’s too heavy for me to bear his weight for long, I devour every second I do have just like this in the aftermath.
The room is quiet, leaving only the melody of our strong breathing to be heard. I rub his back, bringing a smile to his face. When I turn to get a better look, it’s languid under heavier lids that appear to want to be closed over open. Scruffy hair and a messier expression are caught somewhere between heaven and hell. I feel the same but wouldn’t have it any other way.
He finally rolls to my side, but keeps his arm draped over my center. “You weren’t breathing,” he whispers.
“I didn’t notice.”
Leaning over, he kisses me sweetly and brushes hair away from my face. “Tell me something, Spark.”
He makes me smile because we’ve been here before. “Anything?”
“Anything you want, but something not many people know.”
I don’t know why my heart starts racing. Am I saying something I shouldn’t? No, but it feels forbidden to tell anyone. I swallow down my trepidation, and whisper, “My birthday is New Year’s Eve, not on Christmas Eve or Christmas.”