Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Are you scared that I’ll bite you again?”
Eli slowly shook his head.
“No, you don’t scare me.”
“Maybe not,” I whispered. “But I know what does. You better fuck me right now, or I swear to God, I will fill this whole damned room with snakes while you sleep.”
“You are ridiculously fucking crazy,” he said. “And now you’re mine.”
He thrust into me as he said it, filling me so completely that I forgot how to breathe. Then he pulled back and did it again, moving faster with each stroke. Over and over again, he hit that spot inside exactly right, somehow sliding over my clit just enough to qualify as an art form as he did.
This time, I didn’t feel a slow build of coiled tension.
I didn’t have that luxury.
It was like my wires had gotten crossed, and my body wasn’t sure what to do, so I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist and just held on for the ride. I could feel him inside me, pulsing and growing, and I knew he wouldn’t last long.
That was okay. I wasn’t going to last much longer, either.
I’d just finished the thought when the climax hit, slamming into me as I screamed, convulsing around Eli. It was too much for him. His hips surged into mine one last time, and he jerked as he filled me.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that.
Long enough that I’d stopped shuddering, and my heart rate slowed. We found each other’s gazes again, and I watched as a slow change came over his features.
He looked different. Happy.
Smiling.
“So, did you make it ten minutes?” I finally asked. “Because I forgot to hit the stopwatch.”
“Don’t talk,” he said, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck. “I don’t want you to ruin it.”
Outraged, my hands attacked his sides, and he started laughing. That set me off even more, and then he was tickling me while I tried to attack him with my nails. Then his head hit the wall, and I pressed my attack, rolling him over to climb on top of him.
Not long afterward, I discovered something quite wonderful about Eli King. Apparently, he really was a five-minute man, because that’s all it took for him to recover.
Directly after that, I learned something else.
He could keep going for more than ten minutes. Significantly more. So much more, that between the night ending and the next morning beginning, we realized that we absolutely needed to get something to eat.
That’s how I found myself on the back of Eli’s bike as he tore through the darkness, feeling wild and free in a way I’d never experienced before.
Eventually, Eli pulled off to climb a hill overlooking the valley. There, we sat and ate some snacks we’d gotten at a gas station, laughing and telling stories all the while, refusing to think about anything more than us, right there in that moment. That’s when I learned the best thing of all about Eli King.
Seemed he’d always had a fantasy about getting me off while sitting on his Harley, wearing nothing but his belt and a sprinkle of powdered sugar.
I didn’t just have a hot biker going down on me in the moonlight that evening.
I had a hot biker going down on me in the moonlight while I ate mini donuts coated in powdered sugar.
Life simply did not get any better than that.
The roar of a different motorcycle woke me up early the next morning, just as the sun started to rise.
That’d be Gus, finally coming home from a night of whatever it was he did after the bar closed. I knew this because that’d been his habit ever since I was a little girl. Not every day, but definitely two or three times a week.
I’d loved those mornings.
Mom would still be sleeping, so those were my special times with Gus. He was always in a great mood, too. He’d announce that he wanted waffles, but that he couldn’t make them without a helper.
It was my job to watch the waffle iron for when the light turned off so they didn’t get burned. Sometimes, I got distracted and missed it. That never bothered Gus, though. He’d just give me a hug and insist that he liked them best when they were extra crispy.
Then we’d sit down and eat together while he told me stories and let me use as much syrup as I wanted. We always finished by putting together a breakfast tray for Mom. Gus had to carry it upstairs, but he’d let me take it into the room to give to her.
Mom loved getting breakfast in bed, sometimes so much that she cried. Tears of happiness, she’d told me, because she had the world’s best daughter. Those mornings were some of my favorite childhood memories, pure and beautiful and precious.