Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
"Did you have fun with Mason?"
"Yes. He was very nice and taught me all sorts of British words I plan to use against you."
"Good. Now, tell me to fuck off again," I growl. "But strip that pretty dress off before you do it so I can enjoy the show this time, Éire."
"Crue," she groans. But she's already reaching for the hem of her dress, just as incapable of telling me no as I am of denying her. It's the reason neither of us slept last night. Every time she took a breath, I was ready to go again. And she made damn sure I did…over and over again.
I run my hands up and down her silky thighs as she rips her dress off over her head. With her on my lap, her perfect tits are right in my face. She isn't wearing a bra. Apparently, the dress has one built-in or some shit. Good news for me. I lean forward, pulling one hard nipple into my mouth.
She moans, her head falling back. Already, she's rocking on my lap, instinctively seeking the pleasure she knows I'll give her. I snap the bands on her pants, ripping them away from her body.
"Crue," she gasps. "Stop tearing all my clothes. I need them."
"I'll buy you more." I shove her panties in the pocket of my sweats before slipping my hand between her legs. "Ride my fingers, Ireland."
"Yes," she moans, already rocking against them.
I watch, unable to take my eyes off her as she grips the back of the chair, rolling her hips, moaning my name. She's a goddess above me, taking her pleasure without inhibition. My marks litter her skin, standing in testament to what we did last night.
I twist my wrist, using my thumb to jerk my sweats down while she's riding my fingers. It's not easy, but somehow, I manage to do it. My cock springs free, bouncing against her belly.
"Inside me," she pleads as soon as she feels it. "I want you inside me."
"Then take me, sweet girl. I'm yours." It's the truth. I'm hers, heart, mind, body, and soul, tied to her so tightly that nothing and no one will ever be able to undo the knots or untangle us. She has every piece of me. Every single fucking piece.
She lifts up, positioning me at her entrance. Instead of sinking down, she hovers there, her eyes locked on my face.
"Crue," she whispers.
"Ireland," I whisper back.
"I love you."
I open my mouth to respond, but she slams herself down on me, stealing the words and my breath. All I can do is roar her name as her hot cunt wraps around me like a vise, threatening to send me shooting over the edge.
She throws her head back, crying out in bliss.
I grab her around the waist, burying my face between her tits as we work together, moving her up and down my cock. It's loud and messy and fucking perfect. Christ, she feels even better today than she did last night. Like heaven and home and forever all at once.
Within minutes, she's on the edge, her inner muscles fluttering around my cock.
"Hold it," I growl, bouncing her on my cock as I race to get there too. "Don't fucking come yet."
"Crue, please." She scratches down my arms, her eyes rolling. "I c-can't hold it!"
"Hold it, Ireland. Do not fucking come." I bounce her faster, turning my head to the side to pull her nipple into my mouth. I drag it through my teeth and then bite.
She sobs my name, her nails embedded in my arms.
"Now!" I growl as my the pressure in my balls builds to a fever pitch. "Come now."
She shouts my name, letting go. Her cunt spasms around my cock, pulsing all up and down my shaft. I groan, dropping her down on me and holding her there as the force of her orgasm triggers my own. Cum shoots up my shaft, spilling into her again and again.
I force myself to keep my eyes open, watching her the whole time. She's beautiful in this moment, stripped of every defense and drowning in pleasure. Her lips are slightly parted, her cheeks pink. Strands of her hair stick to her forehead. Her eyes are dazed and glassy. She's a vision. One I don't ever have to share.
"I love you," I whisper, awed at how deep that emotion runs. There's an endless well of it just bubbling over.
"I love you too, Crue."
I wrap her in my arms, pulling her down to kiss me as we both come down. When she's no longer trembling through aftershocks, I pull back, tucking strands of hair behind her ear.
"When the tour ends, I want to marry you again with more than a judge and his wife and daughter standing as our witnesses. I want our friends and family there this time," I murmur.