Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I can already feel the orgasm building.
Damn, he’s one hell of a lover. He brings both of my legs up over his shoulders as he stares down at me, his body picking up pace.
I can do nothing but watch on and ride the wave of pleasure.
He closes his eyes and tips his head back, the sound of our skin slapping echoing around us.
“Fuck.” He grimaces. “Every fucking time.” He slams in.
“What?” I pant as I run my hands up and over his shoulders.
He drives home hard and holds himself deep, and my body convulses around his. I feel his orgasm through his cock shuddering deep inside of me.
He falls to me and our lips crash together. I glance over at the clock and burst out laughing.
“What?” he pants.
“You’ve been here for twelve minutes.”
He chuckles, drops his head to my shoulder, and he kisses it softly. “You shouldn’t be so fucking hot. You’re cooking my balls, they’re exploding on impact.”
I giggle. “How am I cooking them?”
He smiles against my lips. “Hard boiled.”
We lay in a state of bliss on the sofa. Brock is behind me with his arms around my body as we watch television together. All we have is a blanket over us. It’s 11:00 p.m. and we have made love five times since he arrived. I just can’t get enough of him It feels different tonight. I feel close to him. But then…
Is that just because I’ve orgasmed so many times that my body is releasing that stupid clingy hormone? I don’t even know anymore.
He kisses me on the side of my face. I close my eyes and smile. I can’t remember the last time I was this relaxed.
“Brock,” I whisper.
“Hmm,” he mumbles against my face. His hand cups my breast, and then he trails his finger down to my sex and circles it through my swollen flesh.
“Why don’t you have girlfriends?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He continues to circle his finger, and it’s not in a sexual way. It’s more of an ownership thing. He’s doing it because he can. My body is completely open for him and he knows it. “I guess I never met anyone that I wanted to go down that route with.” He eventually replies.
I frown. “You know how we said that this between us was a short-term thing?” I say quietly.
He turns my head and kisses me softly, and sliding his finger into my sex, my legs instinctively opening for him.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, distracted by my sex. His tongue slides through my open mouth as my body releases another rush of cream.
He moans as he feels it with his finger.
“The thing is…” I whisper.
He pumps me with two fingers and my eyes close. He begins to rock his fingers deeply, and my mouth falls open.
“The thing is, what?” he whispers into my mouth.
“The thing is…”
He pumps me again and my head falls back. I can feel his erection up against my behind again.
“We have a time limit on how long we can do this.” I’m totally distracted by how good he feels.
“Why?”
My eyes hold his over my shoulder, his fingers still deep inside my sex.
“I’m getting back with my ex.”
He stills. “What?”
“Him and I on a break at the moment.”
“What?” He snaps, tearing his hand out of me and sitting up in a rush.
“No. No, it’s okay, because you and I said this was just a short-term thing all along, didn’t we?” I stammer. Oh God, I didn’t expect this reaction.
He stands in a rush. “You have a fucking boyfriend?” He growls.
“Ex, technically,” I whisper.
“If he’s an ex, why are you getting back with him?”
“Because we made a deal.”
His face creases in confusion. “A deal?”
“Yeah. We were together since we were fifteen and we wanted to try other things.”
“Other things? As in me?” He growls.
My face falls. “I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t.” He storms into the bedroom.
I run after him. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“Why?” I try to grab his arm but he pushes me away.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
“What’s wrong?” I frown.
“Nothing.” He pulls up his shorts and throws his T-shirt over his head.
“Where are you going? Don’t leave.” I try to grab him again. “Why are you angry with me?”
He glares at me and clenches his jaw, as if stopping himself from speaking.
“This doesn’t change anything between us,” I say, clinging on to that last bit of hope, but I already know it’s changed everything.
“Whatever.” He grabs his overnight bag.
“Brock, stay and talk to me.” I try to grab his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong.”
He turns on me like he’s the devil himself. “You made me feel like fucking shit for six weeks because I made you feel dirty.” He fakes a smile and shakes his head in disgust.
“Brock,” I cry.
“Don’t fucking Brock me!” he yells.
My face falls.
He curls his lip in disgust. “Say hi to your boyfriend for me.”