Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“You like my cock filling you?” he asked. “I like it.”
“I’m still mad at you,” I told him, opening my eyes to see those beautiful eyes boring into my soul.
“I’m mad at you, too. So we’re even,” he countered.
His mouth slammed back down to mine, and his beard started to irritate my skin where it rubbed along the side of my neck and chin.
I didn’t stop him, though.
I couldn’t.
Not with what he was doing to my body…and my soul.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please.”
I didn’t know what I was asking for, and he didn’t stop what he was doing.
His cock was moving at the same rate.
My nipples continued to play against his chest hair.
My knees continued to be pushed up to my ears.
But suddenly it was all too much.
The pleasure finally exploded inside of me.
He came up off me with a growl, pushing himself up onto his hands and took me even rougher.
My orgasm turned into something of sheer beauty as it took over my body.
I hadn’t realized I was screaming until I stopped.
Ridley cursed, and hot splashes of his come filled me up to the breaking point.
“Goddamn,” he said through a grunt. “So fucking good. Fuck.”
I watched his face as the last of his release left him, studying the fine lines of his face. The laugh lines around his eyes. The beard that looked almost red in the setting sun that streamed in through the blinds.
“Your beard has red in it,” I whispered to him.
He grinned.
“I know,” he said. “Used to be blonde.”
He seemed almost happy that it was red.
“Why does that make you so happy?” I asked him, letting my legs fall to the bed and to the side.
My hips were happy, too.
That was an awkward position.
The itch of my skin had me running my cool hands over my neck and face where his beard had touched, and I sighed.
My skin was so sensitive and, apparently, even his beard made it itch.
Wonderful.
I’d always been somewhat allergic to dog and cat hair, but not enough that it stopped me from having them.
It was actually kind of funny to find out I was allergic to beard hair, too.
Not that he’d like to be compared to a dog.
“My brother’s is still blonde,” he explained.
I blinked.
“Why does that matter?” I asked.
“It matters because he looks exactly like me in all other ways but our beards. I might just have to keep it forever,” he said, trailing his finger along the line of my collarbone. “Why are you so red?”
“Your beard bothers my skin,” I told him, smiling.
He frowned.
“And don’t you dare shave it, or I’ll be mad at you,” I growled.
His eyebrows rose. “If it breaks your skin out…”
I shook my head, stopping him before he could continue.
“I’ve been like this since I was a kid. Tags on my shirts break my skin out. Trust me, I’m used to it. And, as long as you make me forget it itches, I don’t give a shit what it looks like after. It’ll fade,” I informed him.
He nodded.
“Okay,” he said. Then his eyes went hard. “Why’d you leave?”
Chapter 15
That awkward moment when you look out your car window to see a man watching you down your banana.
-Freya’s socially awkward thoughts
Freya
“You want to talk about this now?” I asked him. “With your goo still dripping out of me?”
I pointed to my lower half where I could feel his release leaking down the cheeks of my booty.
He smiled.
“I got a little out of control,” he admitted, his eyes fixated on my lower half.
I rolled my eyes.
I’d gotten on birth control while he was doing whatever he was supposed to be doing in prison, and immediately after he’d left prison, he’d had a series of tests run to verify his health—which was alarming to me that he even had to do that. I’d learned, though, that STDs ran rampant in prisons, and it was standard protocol to have tests run constantly on an inmate throughout their stay to keep diseases at bay.
Needless to say, I wasn’t concerned.
Although it wasn’t a big deal, per se, it was something we hadn’t discussed as of yet.
That was normally something one did before they got all out of control.
I didn’t blame him, though.
I was just as out of control as he was.
“You’re not answering,” Ridley observed.
I sighed and rolled over onto my side, watching as he got up and bent over, grabbing his boxers that were wadded into a ball near the wall.
I licked my lips and decided to get up and follow suit, but I had to make a pit stop in the bathroom before I could just slip into my clothes.
Sex was messy business.
I hadn’t realized just how messy it was.
I was all set to wipe it up, but I realized it would be just as easy to take a shower at this point seeing as I’d leaked nearly all the way to my ankles.