Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
The mattress rocked and as she glanced behind her shoulder, her gaze finding the compressing movements of his hips. Their bodies melded together, and he secured her with a human lock of his own making, wrapping his leg around hers. He dragged his lips against her back as he reached lower and caressed her clit, strumming it like an instrument. She screamed into the pillow, her body threatening to explode. It was a horribly beautiful heat that began at her pussy and flowed into her bloodstream, forcing her to belt out words that made no sense, scream and yell obscenities.
“SHIT! Oh, God! I’m going to cum again!”
Trembling uncontrollably, she fell back against him, limp yet insatiable. He offered no relief as the orgasm tore her to pieces, only a brief pacification in the form of a kiss upon her neck. Her muscles stiffened as he made her feel good all over, and then, the trembling subsided. He managed to stay inside of her the entire time, providing solid, unyielding thrusts. Without any warning, he slowed, then slipped out of her. He sat up and steered her over him as he sat with his legs crossed. Wrapping her ankles around his back, he brought her in for a kiss, then gripped her waist and raised her over his dick. She pushed her hands against his chest, steadying herself as he lowered her down onto his throne.
“Mmmmm…” He groaned, forcing her onto the rigid thickness. Now, she was courtside. There was no turning away. No running. She was sitting on, and before, the king. With an upward motion, he made her ride the wave. Their groans overlapped, fighting with the high notes of Alanis Morissette’s, ‘Ironic.’
“Come on, baby. Let me fill every bit of that wet, hot pussy.” His voice rasped. His chest was covered in sweat as she explored it, and his hands roughly gripped her thighs while their bodies made a popping noise each time she crashed against him. He lurched forward, rolling her until she was on her back. In a flash, he had her legs up, ankles linked around his neck.
Steely gray eyes were focused on her, ablaze with need and a history of conquering. He gripped her chin and her lips burned from his intense kiss. The sound of his balls slapping against her pussy echoed in her ears. He drove himself so deep inside of her, she had no choice but to drag her nails across his back, perhaps drawing blood to counter his vigorous intrusion. One hand on her forehead, he looked deep into her eyes and pushed her hair back, then dropped his head to suck along her neck. She was falling to pieces beneath him. Heavy, hard muscle—a hunter fucking his running prey…
The fire made strange shapes in the room, and she blinked several times, taking them in. She was soaked—eyes burning, body burning, yearning for more of him.
“Your pussy is delicious, honey. Better than all of that shit you put in the iron basket for me. You have no idea how good it feels inside these wet, tight walls of yours. I’m gettin’ ready to cum in you, baby. Hold on to me tight…”
She came again from his words alone, the gruff tone of his voice. Nasty and lovely all at once. He held her firm as she rocked against him, his pounding growing wilder and untamed. A vein along the side of his neck jutted as he slammed into her, over and over, emitting a mighty roar. She soon felt the rush of warm cum filling the condom, and his quivering body left her breathless.
When he was satisfied, he grabbed his shaft and withdrew from her love. Jack sat on the side of the bed for a few moments, as if needing to catch his breath, then retreated to the restroom. She remained where she was, feeling hot and cold all at once. Her pussy clenched and relaxed repeatedly, wonderfully sore and throbbing. Sparing a glance at the television with weary eyes, she pulled the covers over her naked body and yawned.
It wasn’t long before she felt the weight of his body depress the bed. She turned over on her back and observed him turning off the music channel.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked when he proceeded to fiddle with his watch.
“Yeah, I feel fine.”
He offered a nod and slipped under the covers with her. Without another word, he cradled her close. Now, the room was darker without the glow of the television, and the fire was their only light. She rested against his chest, curling against him, and listened to his heartbeat. Strong.
“What do the roman numerals on the side of your neck mean? The tattoo?”
They both stared at the fireplace. She waited for quite some time, not certain he was going to answer, so many seconds had marched by.