Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I kept working her with my tongue, with my fingers, dragging it out for all it was worth, before easing up, teasing my tongue around her clit, but avoiding contact.
It wasn’t long before her hips were rocking, before her ragged breathing became little whimpers of need once again.
Aching with need myself, I moved away, kneeling between her spread thighs, teasing her with my fingers as my free hand restlessly worked my belt free, then my button and zipper, before reaching inside to fist my cock.
“I can—“ she started, trying to shift up.
“Shh,” I said, shaking my head as I twisted my fingers inside her, teasing over her top wall.
There was time for more later. To feel her hands and lips on me. To feel myself deep inside of her.
Claire looked worried for a second, like she felt she should be doing something for me—which was the exact reason I wasn’t going to let her yet.
I wanted her to know that this wasn’t an obligation, that I didn’t touch her and taste her because I expected the same, that I did it because I wanted to. And that I wanted the same from her.
I wouldn’t pretend to understand the extent of the abuse she endured with Warren, but I figured with a bastard like that, there wasn’t really such a thing as choice.
Claire relaxed back onto the mattress, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing got more ragged while my fingers worked her, stroking over her G-spot until that concerned look left her eye, leaving only need in its wake.
Only then did I fully free my cock, fisting it, and started to stroke myself.
Claire’s heated gaze slipped from my face, to my cock, to where my fingers were thrusting between her legs, then back. Again and again. Her mind likely thinking what mine was, about what I would feel like inside of her, moving like I was working her with my fingers, like I was working myself with my hand.
Her little whimpers grew to moans as her pussy started to tighten around my fingers, driving me right toward that edge with her.
Her orgasm crested first, leaving her crying out and writhing.
“Fuck,” I hissed as my own slammed through me, making my head fall back and my eyes slide closed at the intensity.
It wasn’t until I felt my fingers slide out of her heat that I realized she was moving.
Slowly sitting up, her gaze on mine for a moment before I lost it as she lowered her head down.
The tip of her tongue teased over my cock, making my whole fucking body jerk at the unexpected contact.
She ran it around the head, down the shaft, and up again, cleaning me up, tasting me, before lifting her head, resting it against my stomach as we both waited for some sort of order to return to our bodies.
My hand went to the back of her neck, holding her against me, not quite ready for the moment to end, for everything else to come rushing back.
In the end, it was my phone that forced us apart.
It started to ring, went to voicemail, then started up again.
“You have to get that,” she said, voice soft, a little mournful, but she moved away before I could get a look at her face.
She reached for the blanket at the bottom of the bed, pulling it over herself, then moved out of the bedroom, making me sigh hard as my fucking phone started up again, making it impossible to follow her, to see if she was alright.
“What?” I barked into the phone, more frustrated than I’d been in a long time.
There was a short pause before Milo’s voice filled my ear. “The fuck’s your problem?”
A sigh escaped me as I turned, sinking onto my ass on the foot of the bed.
“What is it, Milo? I’m not in the mood for bullshit today.”
There was another pause at that, and it struck me how unlike me it was me to snap at someone in the family for a couple of phone calls.
I guess because, in the past, they’d never actually been interrupting anything.
“Luca wants to see us,” he said. “At the docks in half an hour. But you might want to leave the fucking attitude at home. This is your shitstorm we’re still cleaning up,” he added.
Milo was nothing if not a straight fucking shooter. Never afraid to say whatever was on his mind. Even to the boss himself. Saying shit like ‘this meeting could have been a fucking email.”
That mouth of his would have gotten his face bashed in a couple dozen times growing up if the other kids in school didn’t know he had brothers in the grades above him who wouldn’t tolerate that shit.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I know,” I added, my gaze sliding to the open bedroom door. But Claire was long gone. “I’ll be there.”