Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
I thread my fingers behind his head and lower myself down. He slides into me easily, his size and hardness no match for my wetness. Both of his hands settle on my ass and guide me as I ease into a rhythm. I grind against him, riding him slowly but deeply.
I twine his hair around my fingers to get more grip as my speed increases. Blood pumping, skin tingling, breath catching. The feelings are rampant in my body, heightened when his palm connects with my ass.
“I’m trying really hard right now not to fuck you,” he hisses. “Because you feel so, so fucking amazing on top of me, but I need to come so bad.”
“You want it hard?” I whisper in his ear, sensing a shift in the dynamic.
“Yes, Liv. I’m telling you to fuck me hard.”
“Telling me?” I still and tug his hair.
His fingertips dig into my skin. “Asking you to fuck me hard,” he bites out. “Bitch,” he adds.
I smile. “Are you sure? I’m a little wild.” I raise my hips and slam back down onto him to prove my point.
Despite the groan that leaves him, he says, “I can handle you, babe. Don’t doubt it.”
“You asked for it.”
I squeeze and start a new rhythm—harder, faster, tighter. My hips tilt and gyrate as I bounce on him, each time completely taking his cock inside me. His fingers grip me tighter and tighter, his body tenses harder and harder, and my own body reacts.
I tug his hair and move faster. Tyler takes my mouth in a rough kiss, and right now, it’s about the release. About the tightly coiled tension in us and between us finding its release. And it’s close—so close.
Then it’s here, crumbling on top of us both. I let go of Tyler’s hair and wrap my arms around his neck as he kisses me even harder. His arms circle my waist and he tilts his hips up so he’s firmly encased inside me as he comes.
I shudder, breaking the kiss, and bury my face in his neck. My body is racked with orgasmic spasms, making my pussy clench around his cock. He rubs his hands across my back in a random pattern that’s soothing and calming to me.
“Jesus, Liv. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers against my skin.
“Is that good or bad?” I shiver.
“Good. Jesus, it was more than good.” He kisses my shoulder. One of his hands leaves me and he tugs the sheets from beneath us.
We roll over and he pulls out of me in the process. With one lingering kiss on my lips, he ghosts his fingers down my body and peels off my stockings and my heels. Then he throws them on the floor and joins me in bed. Swiftly, he holds me against him and the covers over us.
Moving into him is automatic. Tangling one of my legs between his and laying an arm over his side is subconscious, the same way he hooks one of his legs over mine and runs his fingers through my hair. His other hand is wrapped around my body and cupping my neck, the one thing anchoring me to him.
If only it were. If only his arm were anchoring me, grounding me, into this fucked-up relationship with him, it would be easier. If it weren’t his need to push me to limits and discover desires I didn’t know I had… If it weren’t his insistence to always put me before his wants… If it weren’t the way he looks at me, the fact that, when he smiles at me, it’s a little wider than normal, or the fact his eyes sparkle a little brighter when I touch him, it would be so much easier to live with.
It would be so much easier not to feel myself become wholly addicted to him. Right now, encased in his arms, I’m not sure I’ll be able to go another day without him touching me. I’m not sure I’ll manage twelve hours without hearing his voice.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose when my only choices will destroy us both.
He lets out a long, shuddery breath and holds me closer. “Don’t ask me to let you go now. Please.”
I can’t respond to that, so like the wimp I am, I pretend I’m asleep.
Lying on the bed on my stomach, with my chin propped on my hands and my legs kicking in the air behind me, I watch Tyler navigate the room with ease. He’s conveniently forgotten how to put on a T-shirt, it seems. Again.
Not that it’s a bad sight. The muscles in his back ripple as he bends over to pack his suitcase. His biceps flex, and when he stands up, he stretches up tall. The smattering of hair that runs down the center of his stomach joins with the top of his pubic hair. Hair that’s now in my view thanks to his stretch.