Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Sliding my hand between her legs and finding her drenched, I wrap my hand around her jaw. “You’re soaked.”
“I know.” She tightens her legs around my hips as I line myself up and slip into heaven, and that’s exactly what she feels like every single time I slide into her with nothing between us.
Capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, I drink down her moans as she uses the leverage she has to lift and slide back down my cock. Letting her jaw go, I grip her waist so I can take back a little control. Otherwise, this is going to be over before it’s really started. Slowing my thrusts, I lean back enough to watch myself sink into her stroke after stroke.
“Faster.”
“No,” I deny, almost sliding completely out of her before sinking back inside, bottoming out as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors begin to open.
“Is Clifford here?” she asks.
“No.” I nip her neck when her head falls back with a thud. The doors close, but the elevator stays put while the fingertips of one of her hands dig into my shoulder, and her other hand slides between us. “Elora,” I bite out, and she lifts her eyes to mine. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she whimpers as she touches our connection, then a hiss of breath escapes her lips as she rolls her fingers over her clit.
Watching her touch herself while her pussy is squeezing my cock is not conducive to me staying in control, and she knows it.
“Fuck,” I growl, losing it like we both knew I would. I fuck her harder, each thrust going as deep as possible, and even as I bump against her cervix, I want to go farther to be closer. Deeper.
When her inner walls begin to clamp down around me and my name leaves her mouth on a breathy moan, I let out a groan as I lose myself inside her, planting myself as deep as I can. Breathing heavy, sweaty, and lightheaded, I drop my forehead to her shoulder.
“I really like this dress,” she whispers, and my body starts to shake as I laugh.
“But I like that sound more.” I lean back just enough to look at her, and her eyes wander over my face. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.” The quiet words spoken like a confession fill up whatever emptiness was left inside me. It might have taken some time, but I’m not surprised she made me whole. She filled a void in my life I never realized was there and gave me a sense of contentment no amount of money could ever buy.
22
ELORA
40.7128° N, 74.0060° W
“You about ready?”
At that question from Roman, I look toward the bathroom door as he walks in, dressed in black dress pants and a button-down that matches. The only pop of color is the gold double-G buckle around his waist.
“Not yet.” I turn back to the mirror to finish my mascara.
“Stop stalling, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not stalling,” I lie.
He and I both know I’ve been a nervous wreck since he told me two days ago that we would be having dinner with his family, including Ricardo, who I haven’t seen since we were at the hospital weeks ago. Even with Roman’s reassurance that things will be okay, a tiny voice in the back of my head warns me that I should stay away so that nothing gets close enough to pop the bubble of safety Roman has me in.
“You are stalling, but it’s cute.” He comes up behind me, smoothing my hair over my shoulder to kiss the crook of my neck. “Is this what you plan on wearing?” His hands fist his T-shirt that I confiscated after our shower earlier.
“Yes, this is the new it fashion of all Manhattan socialites.”
“I like it.” His smile is contagious.
“If you keep distracting me, we’re going to be late.”
“We’re already late.”
“What?” I panic and start to reach for my phone to check the time.
“I’m joking. You have about twenty minutes before we’ll be late.”
“Jerk.”
“But you love me.”
He’s right; I do. Sometime between Oregon and New York, I fell in love with him. It didn’t sneak up on me. It just happened so effortlessly I didn’t recognize what it was. “I’ll be in the living room when you’re done.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you out there.” I bite my lip as he kisses my shoulder, then watch him in the mirror as he wanders out of the room.
When I finish my makeup and my hair—I decided to put it into a low messy bun because there was no taming it after it got wet in the shower—I walk into the closet. Over the past few weeks, his things have been moved to one side while the other has slowly accumulated more and more pieces. All things that just suddenly appear on hangers or in drawers. I can’t say I’ve gotten used to being spoiled by him, or that I ever will, but I’ve come to realize it’s one of the ways he shows he cares and thinks of me.