Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Not sure those are my favorite anymore.” Delilah is picking up what I’m putting down, going so far as to take another step closer to the doorway. “Woman, you come inside, you won’t be leavin’ until you’re too damn sore to move, let alone walk,” I warn her off. The way I’m feeling, the way she’s looking, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep my hands or dick to myself. Delilah isn’t heeding my warning. Nope, it seems like she’s after the same exact thing I am. I watch as she moves the plate to one hand. Her other goes to my chest, but she doesn’t keep it there. This fucking temptress slowly drags the palm of her hand lower and lower.
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a guaran-fucking-tee.” My hand slides around her waist, and I pull her inside. Delilah Taylor may be my demise and salvation all wrapped in one delicious package.
Chapter 3
Delilah
“Shit.” I’m barely through the door when the platter of cookies is starting to slip. Fletch’s quick thinking has him grabbing it from me. How he’s managing to do multiple things at once, I’ll never understand, not while his mouth is attached to mine. The moment the plate is taken away, I’m all over him. My hand continues its path, slowly sliding down his thick muscular stomach, feeling each peak and valley of his abs. Fletch’s lips on mine, his tongue licking my lower lip, the soft mewl leaving me makes him nip at it with his teeth. The tips of my fingers meet the waistband of his sweats, and every meme or video you’ve heard about a man wearing gray sweatpants is true, at least for Fletcher Wild. The outline of his thick and heavy cock had me some type of way. I was ready to throw caution to the wind and quite literally climb him like a pole. He’s a shower while also being a grower. Some men could never be as lucky as Fletch or, well, me. I’m the only one reaping the rewards.
“Oh my god,” I breathe between each word when my hand wraps around his length. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve seen his cock, felt him inside of me, but have yet to touch his dick. A complete and utter travesty I will never let happen again.
“Christ, Delilah,” he groans, his mouth leaving mine and moving to my neck, where he nips at me once again. It’s plain as day he likes to bite, and what it does to me is out-of-this-world amazing. I slowly start to work my hand up and down, twisting my wrist as I go. “Tighter,” he all but demands. His hand slides beneath my dress, grabbing a handful of my ass as he walks us backwards. The door is now shut, and my back meets the cool wood. It does nothing to calm down the desire building up inside of me. I do as he says, holding him with a firmness I’d have thought it would hurt, but apparently, that’s not the case for Fletch.
“Fletcher.” It looks like we’re not ever going to make it to a flat surface, you know, like a bed. Walls, the side of the road with me holding on to my car for dear life, and now my back is pressed against the wall. “Please, more,” I beg, feeling his fingers move closer to my center from behind. My body trembles with need. Why is it always like this when we’re near one another? The all-consuming need to be naked and have him pushing his cock inside me, it’s the only thing I can think about.
“You gonna make me come, Delilah?” Two fingers drive inside me, causing my head to tip back, giving Fletch more room to nip, suck, and lick at the column of my throat. “Woman, you get me off with your hands, I won’t be coming inside you.” His words only spur me on while I continue working his shaft. Our breaths become even more heated when I sweep my thumb over the head of his cock, gathering his precum to use in order to keep up my pace. Fletch antes up the stakes, as if we’re playing a game of Texas Hold ‘em, trying to beat who can make the other come first. We both already know who’s going to win.
He will. Always.
“Fuck, yeah, want your cunt wrapped around my cock, feel this wetness without anything between us.” His admission sends a shockwave to my core.
“I’m not on birth control.” God, how I wish I were right about now, but being celibate meant not bothering. I knew my cycle like clockwork. I’ve yet to miss a period and can tell you the day when it’ll start.
“Fuck.” The four-letter word is my sentiment exactly.
“You can pull out,” I offer as I lose his fingers. I’m ready to kick and scream, except Fletch wraps his hands around mine and rubs the blunt tip of his cock along the lace of my thong.