Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Make me,” I whisper, not wanting to be patient anymore. The tips of his fingers press deeper into my flesh, and he shoves me down until his cock bottoms out. I’m not close to taking him all. I could still wrap my hand around the thick root of his erection if I could reach that far, but that’s not what Dalton wants.
What he wants is my slick pussy, clasping whatever he can push inside me. He wants my hands on his chest, grabbing at him in a frenzied, desperate way that seems to make him crazy. I bend to kiss him, managing to keep my mouth on his even as I bob up and down, impaled on his monster-sized cock. In less than a minute, and with no friction on my clit at all, I’m gasping. “Oh…oh…fuck…oh…Dalton…don’t…fucking…stop.”
And he doesn’t. He keeps grabbing at me, shifting my hips, hammering against my G-spot until it’s me who’s grunting like an animal in heat. I lose control of my limbs, legs going limp, hands slipping from Dalton’s skin; a marionette with its strings suddenly severed. Dalton wraps his enormous arms around me, cradling me against his chest. He smells so good, like the forest and sea breeze and sexy, sexy man. His beard scratches my forehead as he presses desperate kisses there. He’s still shifting beneath me, letting his cock slide in and out, slowly keeping a rhythm that isn’t too much for me. “That’s it, baby,” he whispers against my skin. “That’s it. Let me take care of you.”
His rough hands caress my body in long slow strokes, relaxing me and prolonging my blissed-out state. “That feels good,” I whisper.
“I know what you need,” he says. The words should sound cocky, but they don’t. Mostly, he sounds happy at the idea that he can please me. Dalton’s awesome with the aftercare that most guys don’t seem to have a clue about. His focus hasn’t shifted to chasing his own release. His ocean eyes watch me, taking in everything, and I wonder what he’s thinking and feeling about this moment.
Is it weird to be buried between the thighs of a girl you used to play tag with in your backyard? Is it weird to touch her tits and lick her pussy, and to know her so intimately?
From my perspective, it isn’t weird at all, and I’m not sure how I should feel about it. These men have been a solid and stable part of my life for so long. I’ve lusted after them for more years than it’s probably been good for me. I trust them in a way I’ve never been able to trust another man. That isn’t to say I trust them with my whole heart and soul, but that has more to do with my own hang-ups than the Nowak brothers themselves.
It feels natural to let Dalton pet me gently with his big, rough hands. It feels good to sink against him because I know this means as much to him as it does to me. I remember when I fell on the sidewalk outside our houses, and he picked me up and carried me inside so my mom could tend to my shredded knee. He watched the whole cleanup and bandaging process, biting the side of his nail with as much concern as if I was having my whole leg stitched back on.
I touch his face as the tenderness I felt when I was a clumsy kid rushes back to me with as much force as if it had happened yesterday.
“That was so fucking sexy,” he says, kissing the pad of my thumb. Inside me, his cock seems to thicken, an indication that he’s ready for his turn now.
“Let me feel you come, Dalton,” I say, pressing a kiss to his soft lips, relishing the scratch of his facial hair against my skin.
A growl rumbles in his throat, and as if he can’t wait anymore, Dalton starts to thrust upwards. My breasts bounce with every movement, and I have to grip his shoulders to stay upright. “Oh…oh…” I pant, wincing a little as he hits too deep every so often, wanting to weep from how close he’s bringing me to coming again.
His eyes are closed, his jaw set, his biceps so bunched that his veins bulge tracks through the skin. The lion on his shoulder seems fiercer, as though it’s going to roar at the same time as Dalton growls his release.
“That’s it,” I say. “Fill me up, baby. Fuck me with that big cock. Fill me…” I don’t get to complete the sentence before Dalton swells, jerking into my pussy as though his life depends on it. He unleashes a rumbling groan that can probably be heard from the sidewalk, clutching at my body with fingers that I know will leave bruises in the morning. For all his care, in the moment of ecstasy, his carefulness crumbled, replaced by a frenzy of desire.