Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Sam lets out a soft moan, resting his head against mine as I pump my hand up and down, thumb circling over the tip of his dick, spreading the precum down his shaft. His lips meet mine again, kissing me once more before pulling my hand from his boxers. He eases me back on the counter and takes off my pajama pants.
“And I missed your tight, wet pussy.” His words send another jolt through me and he dives between my legs, mouth hovering over my core, teasing me with his hot breath. I buck my hips, needing to feel him against me, but he turns his head, gently kissing the inside of my thigh. I’m impatient, desperate to come, but I know Sam will make it well worth my while when I’m writhing with pleasure against him.
More than once. Because when it comes to Sam, I know he’ll always make me come at least twice. And with the distance between us and not being able to do this as often as we liked, I know tonight will be just as good if not better than before.
Why the hell did we wait so long to finally get together?
He turns his head, kissing my other thigh, and slowly licks his way to my center, tongue hovering above my clit, enjoying the second of hesitation way too much.
“Sam,” I moan, and he slides his hands under my ass, lifting me off the counter and to his face. With no warning, his tongue lashes out against me. My pulse pounds through me, and I glance down, watching Sam eat me out. The counter bites into my elbows, but the discomfort barely registers in my mind. I’m fairly certain the sky could be falling and I wouldn’t notice right now.
Sam licks and sucks at me, working his tongue like magic. My muscles tense as I press one hand against the cool quartz counter and reach for Sam’s hair, fingers slipping through his dark locks.
“Don’t. You. Dare. Stop,” I pant, and Sam looks up, catching me watching him. He flashes a smirk and gets back to work, not stopping until I’m coming against his face, entire body humming from the orgasm.
“Chloe,” Sam growls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I’m panting, slowly pushing myself up and suddenly very aware the lights are on in the kitchen and the large floor-to-ceiling windows aren’t too far from where we are on the counter. Anyone in the neighboring apartment could have looked in and saw us.
And, fuck, that excites me.
Inhaling, I sit the rest of the way up and reach for Sam, hooking my legs around him as soon as he steps closer. He takes me in his arms, bringing me tight against him. In one swift movement, he picks me up as if I weigh nothing and carries us to the couch. He lays me down and climbs over top, pushing his pants and boxers down at the same time. I bring my hands up, feeling his biceps, and widen my legs to welcome him in between.
We kiss as he enters me, and I widen my legs, welcoming him in deeper. Sam drives in hard and fast at first, and then slows his movements and circles his hips as he thrusts in and out of me. I angle my hips up, mouth falling open as another orgasm builds inside me. My head hits the arm of the couch as Sam fucks me harder, not stopping until I’m coming again.
He pushes in deep, breath quickening as he finishes. Letting out a breath, he rests his forehead against mine, dick still pulsing inside me. I rake my fingers up and down his back, body still humming. We stay together for another moment, and then Sam slowly pulls out and picks up his boxers from the floor, giving them to me to use to clean myself up with until I can get into the bathroom.
“Chloe,” he starts right before I get up.
“Yeah?”
His blue eyes meet mine and his lips part as if he’s going to tell me something. “I love you,” he says and gets up, extending a hand for me.
“I love you too.”
Head still spinning, I get up and walk to the bathroom, knowing we’re already late for dinner but not caring.
“Are you supposed to go talk to a class at SRH?” Sam asks, turning on the shower. I carefully gather my hair into a bun on the top of my head, trying not to mess up my curls.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“My mom said something. I can’t remember her name but some English teacher—”
“Mrs. Clemmons?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. She’s been telling everyone about it.”
I stick my hand in the running water, testing the temperature. Sam showers at a considerably cooler temperature than I like, though my preferred temp is “scalding.”