Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Dropping my duffle bag, I picked her up in my arms and stumbled toward the bed. She tasted like red wine and smelled like coconut and that signature warm vanilla. I missed her smell. I missed her.
When her back landed on the plush comforter, I stood tall between her legs, and while I peeled my T-shirt off, she tugged at the buckle of my belt and undid it before going for the button and zipper.
When my clothes were removed, I dove in for another taste of her lips. Our next kiss was heated and deep as I tugged her panties down. She slipped out of her robe, and I knelt on the bed, clutching her hips and centering myself between her thighs.
“Come here,” I growled, bringing her closer. When I felt the head of my dick sink into her, a hiss slipped through my teeth.
The first time I’d felt her, I had to take a moment and breathe so I wouldn’t come on the spot. I swear this was just like the first time all over again, pushing into her nice and slow, feeling her pussy wrap tight around me.
Her eyes slid up to mine, and when she cupped her tits and pushed her hips upward to guide me deeper, I couldn’t hold off anymore. I buried myself inside her, and her moan pierced the air.
Fuck, she felt so tight. So wet. So damn good.
I leaned down, resting on one elbow as I wedged a hand between our bodies. Using the pads of my fingers, I rubbed her slick clit, and her back arched as she moaned again. I kept rubbing, circling, teasing, my dick hard as stone, ready to fucking explode while watching her unravel.
“Oh, Deke,” she whimpered. “I’m gonna . . .”
“Gonna what, baby?” I asked, my mouth grazing hers.
“Come,” she cried. “I’m gonna come.”
She gripped my forearm that was next to her head, and when she threw her head back farther and moaned, the warmth of her orgasm coated my dick.
“Damn. You’re coming all over me, D,” I rasped, still rubbing. “You just couldn’t wait, could you?”
She threw her arms over my shoulders to bring my chest to hers. I buried my face into the crook of her neck, groaning as I lost control.
I sucked hard on her neck while throbbing, pulsing, until a deep moan ripped out of me.
I pressed a hand to the bed and snatched myself out, stroking rapidly and watching my come spill in thick ropes on her pelvis.
“Fuck, you’re too good,” I breathed.
Her body settled, and a goofy smile spread across her face.
“What’s funny?” I asked, caging her head between my arms.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“You have a strong pull-out game.” She smirked, sitting up on her elbows. “I don’t even want to think about how you’ve mastered that.”
“So don’t,” I murmured on her lips. Truth was I always used a condom with other women. With Davina, though? I had to have her raw.
I kissed her slowly this time, savoring the feel of her soft lips on mine and basking in her sweet perfume and those pheromones that drove my senses wild.
When the kiss broke, I rushed to grab a towel from the bathroom, helped her clean up, then sat on the edge of the bed. She sat right next to me, and I stole a glance at her. She was looking ahead, soaking in the city view.
“How long do you think this’ll go on for?” she asked.
“How long do you want it to go on for?”
She replied with a shrug, then lowered her head to study her hands. I looked at her hands, too, and realized her wedding rings were missing. In place of them was a line several shades lighter than her regular skin tone.
Interesting.
The first time we had sex, she had those rings on. I couldn’t say it wasn’t a distraction, seeing that diamond glint beneath the dim lights while I had my way with her. Knowing another man had probably done the same things I was doing irritated me a bit, but I understood why she kept them on, so I ignored it as best I could. I had no right to feel that way either.
To see the rings gone . . . well, something must’ve changed since then. Maybe she was finally starting to trust me. I tried not to smile at the thought and instead took her hand, purposely rubbing the tan line.
She noticed and swooped her gaze up to mine. Her eyes grew glossy, but she tore them away, blinking rapidly.
“Sometimes I think God purposely made my life complicated,” she murmured. “Everything in my life—every decision, every choice, every romantic relationship—has always been complicated.” Her velvety-brown irises turned up to me again. “It’s a shitty feeling, because when I finally get to do something for myself or decide to be selfish with my decisions, it feels like everything is going to fall through the cracks.”