Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Good God.”
“What I really want is to ride you,” I say, smirking. “Do you have any objections?”
“Oh, please no,” he mocks, laughing. “Please don’t sit on my cock and put those big titties in my face.”
I laugh, too, climbing over his legs. My feet on the bed, one on either side of him, I reach backward and palm him. Then I position the tip at my entrance.
Drake’s breaths are fast and shallow as his hands cinch down on my hips. “You’ve ruined me. It gets no better than this.”
“We’ll see about that.” I drop smoothly down his shaft until I feel his balls touch my ass. “Getting better?”
He groans, shivering as his fingers dig into my skin. His hands tuck beneath my ass, assisting me as I lift and fall once again.
“Motherfucker,” he says, tilting his head back against the headboard. “You’re gonna kill me.”
I giggle. “Don’t die yet. I want to feel you come in me from this angle.”
He growls, making me giggle harder.
I stroke him with my pussy, bouncing on his cock, watching him fight for his life beneath me. It’s so heady, so intoxicating that I feel myself ready to bust all over him again.
Dropping to my knees, I smirk as he licks his lips and reaches for my tits. My hips roll in slow circles as his fingers do the same to my nipples. My blood sears through my veins as I absorb the stimulation, both physically and visually.
His eyes are sapphires, dark and hooded. His neck is strained. A day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw as he clenches it in anticipation of unloading inside me.
I pick up my pace, grinding harder against him, the precipice of another orgasm growing closer by the second. Leaning back, I slide a hand between us and press my throbbing clit.
“Fuck,” I hiss, the stickiness of my cum coating my fingers.
“Take me in as deep as you can. I want to fill every fucking inch of you.” He squeezes my waist and pulls me down as if I could fit another centimeter of him inside me. But the added pressure is fucking delicious, anyway. I buck harder against him, working my clit faster. “That’s it. Ride me, baby. Do you feel how much I want you? Can you feel how hard my cock is for you?”
I suck in a breath, the beginning flashes of my climax flirting with my vision. “I’m going to come.”
He pounds into me from below. The duality of the motion is too much, and I topple over the edge wildly. Frantically. Passionately.
“Fuck!” I scream, the waves of pleasure ripping through me. I ride him fast and hard, listening to him growl through his own orgasm. The sounds coming from his throat are like shots of energy, extending my orgasm long after it should’ve been over. “So good, Drake. So good.”
He shakes violently, his eyes rolling back in his head. I fall forward, catching myself with my palms on his chest. He shivers, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me down on top of him.
Our breathing is ragged, and our hearts race. He presses a kiss to the top of my head as I nuzzle into the bend of his neck.
“Feel better?” he asks, chuckling softly. “Did that release your stress?”
I smile against his shoulder. “For now.”
“Want to get in the bath, and I’ll bring you pizza?”
That’s it. He’s perfect.
He brushes my hair out of my face, his eyes twinkling.
I can’t deny the warmth that spreads through me or how satisfied and safe I feel with him. But I also don’t want to talk about it. Not now.
“Sounds great, as long as you bring a bottle of wine and join me,” I say.
He leans up and kisses my shoulder. “Anything for you.”
For the first time in my life, I just might believe that.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
Gianna
Moonlight streams through Drake’s bedroom windows, creating a peaceful ambiance as we lie together. His bedside lamp provides enough light for us to flip through Mercy Malone’s tour pictures. Drake points out little details that I would never notice—things like faces in the crowd, inconsistencies across venues in the stage design, and the subtle interactions between the dancers and the band. His perspective is fascinating. I have to wonder if it’s because he’s used to reading plays and picking up on cracks in defenses and player habits.
My habits are more of the let’s meet a random person at a laundromat and buy a few thousand plastic spoons that were headed for the landfill variety. Not super helpful in any situation outside of, well, my life. Even then, sometimes my propensities are less helpful and more enthusiastic, well-intentioned calamities.
I glance up at my man, the black framed glasses he wears at night giving his features a smart, sophisticated aura. It’s my favorite look of his, and the first time I saw him wearing his glasses, I made him wear them while I sucked his dick.