Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
She closed her eyes and twisted one nipple between her fingers, then the other. Imagining it was his hands squeezing, his fingers tweaking. His mouth pulling on her breasts, his teeth scraping over the very tips.
She cried out as she pinched one nipple harder and slid two fingers deep inside her. Driving them into her own wetness.
She plunged her fingers in and out, smashing her clit with her thumb. Pressing, circling, over and over.
This would be quick and dirty. The goal only to bring her to orgasm.
To wipe her mind free of how much she wanted the man asleep in his bed.
Her back arched as she began to fuck herself in a frenzy.
“Yes… yes… yes… Oh please… yessssss,” she moaned.
Chapter Thirteen
“Yes… yes… yes… Oh please… yessssss.”
No.
No.
Goddamn it. No!
Why the fuck was she doing this to him? Didn’t she know the walls were paper thin? That he could hear every gasp, every moan and every damn cry? He could hear the fucking bed squeaking?
This was worse than torture.
It was fucking criminal.
Wrapping his pillow around his head, he attempted to drown out the sound.
Of Nova touching herself.
Of her bringing herself to orgasm.
He was so damn hard, it was excruciating.
Should he go over there and finish what she started? Would she want that or would she tell him to fuck off?
He hadn’t been lying when he told her, as well as himself, that hooking up would be a huge mistake. It would create problems. Possibly even interfere with their investigation.
He’d been right to break up what they’d been doing in the kitchen. Even when every cell in his body vetoed him doing so.
Now she was being the smart one and taking care of business on her own. He needed to take a page from her book and do the same. Maybe if he pulled one off he could finally get some sleep. Forget about the woman across the hall and how hard he was for her.
With a frustrated groan, he whipped the pillow and it landed somewhere in the dark.
Without hesitation, he shoved his boxer briefs down far enough to fist his pulsing cock. A string of precum clung to the pad of his thumb for a second before it broke and he rubbed the natural lubricant over the crown. Then he began to pump, holding his breath so he could hear her race toward her own orgasm.
He imagined her making those same noises as he drove his cock into her over and over. In his mind’s eye, he could see her meeting him thrust for thrust. Encouraging him to fuck her harder by using her words, her fingers, her teeth.
Soon he couldn’t hear her over the roar of his own racing pulse. He had no idea if she came yet. When his lungs began to fight for his next breath, he released the one he was holding.
He stroked his rock hard length from root to rim in a frenzied pace.
Jesus fucking Christ. He didn’t want to fuck his fist. He wanted to fuck her.
He wanted that greedy little mouth on him everywhere.
He wanted his all over her, too. He wanted to taste her pussy. He wanted to pull those tightly puckered nipples into his mouth and suck them as hard as he could.
He wanted to lick down the line of her tattooed spine all the way to her ass crease and then continue even further.
He wanted to taste her everywhere.
Touch every fucking inch.
Leave marks along her flesh.
Bury himself deep and once she pulsated around his cock, fill her with cum.
That was what he wanted. That wasn’t what he was getting.
Instead, it was his own hand on his own dick in his own room.
Because he was trying to do the right fucking thing.
And the right thing meant not touching Nova and only touching himself.
He switched his grip on his cock from underhanded to overhand and stroked even faster.
The pressure built and he didn’t slow down until he was right there…
At the breaking point.
With one last upstroke, he scrambled to cup his other hand around the pulsing head and, with a grunt-turned-groan, captured the warm, silky strings of cum in his palm.
When it was over, his head flopped back to the bed and he lay there with a palmful of warm DNA until his breathing went back to normal, until his heart slowed, until sanity and reality returned.
With his eyelids now heavy and sleep beginning to pull at him, he rolled to sit at the edge of the bed, pulling tissues from the box on the nightstand. He wiped his hand, then used another tissue to clean off his now deflated cock before shifting his boxers back into place.
He needed to go clean up because despite using tissues, his hands were sticky and jerking off had made a mess.
He fought the urge to curl up in the sheets and let his exhaustion pull him under. He wished like fuck that this bedroom had its own bathroom.