Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
It was my turn to soak him in.
That wide chest, those indents to his abdominals. The V that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.
Seeing my gaze go there, Callow’s lips curved up as his hands went for his button and zipper, working them free, then pushing his pants to his feet.
What I figured was just a nighttime preference turned out to be his usual. Callow didn’t have anything on under his jeans.
His cock sprang free, hard and thick, making me press my thighs together to ease the aching need to feel him filling me.
I folded up, scooting to the foot of the bed, and pressing my lips to the center of his stomach.
My hands slid up the sides of his thighs then moved to grab his ass, pulling him closer as my head dipped, letting me run my tongue around the head of his cock.
His groan vibrated through him, urging me on.
My mouth closed around him, taking him in deep, then started to work him in slow twisting motions that had his hand slapping on the back of my neck, then curling in, almost crushing.
But that reaction only spurred me on, making me go faster and deeper. Until, suddenly, Callow’s fingers sifted into my hair, curling, and pulling until the pain across my scalp had me moving back, had his cock sliding out from between my lips with a small pop.
“Would love to come down your throat again,” he said, voice rough. “But not now,” he told me as he pulled upward on my hair until I got to my feet to ease the sting.
His fingers released me, sliding down my spine to land at the center of my back, pulling me against him.
A long, low moan escaped me as our bodies touched, his hard lines meeting my soft curves, the brush of his chest hair on my oversensitive breasts, his cock just a few inches from where I so desperately needed him.
Callow’s hand massaged the back of my neck as his lips claimed mine.
It was a soft and sweet kiss, long and lingering.
But it wasn’t long before the tension in our bodies grew, until I felt like I was vibrating with the need for release.
Callow turned suddenly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and pulling me closer.
He grabbed me behind my knee, lifting it up, placing it wide on the bed, opening me up to him as his head dipped.
Then his tongue was tracing up my cleft, finding my clit, and working it in slow circles until my thighs were shaking, until I wasn’t sure I could hold myself up anymore.
Callow’s hands sank into my hips, pulling me as he moved flat on the mattress.
“Come here,” he demanded, pulling harder when I resisted. “Ride my face.”
And, well, when a man said something like that in that voice, you had no choice but to give them what they wanted.
Positioning over his face, I lowered down to hover over him.
“You gotta sit,” Callow grumbled, yanking me down to do just that.
Then, well, then he was working me and I was riding him.
His fingers slipped inside of me, thrusting, then turning and tracing across my top wall, engaging my G-spot as he kept devouring me.
My thighs were shaking. The moans that escaped me filled the room, were likely heard halfway down the hall.
But I didn’t care.
It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was here, was this, was him.
Callow groaned against me as my walls tightened around his fingers as he drove me to the edge.
That vibration was the last final push I needed, sending me crashing down into an orgasm that stole my breath, that had my thighs crushing his skull.
“Fuck,” Callow said when I finally fell to the side of him, letting him suck in a breath.
A little giggle escaped me before he rolled over me again, his lips crushing mine, kissing me hard and deep until the satisfaction once again turned to need.
My legs went around his hips and I shifted until I felt his hard length pressing against my cleft.
Callow’s lips swallowed my moan as the ache intensified.
“Callow, please,” I begged, knowing the only thing that was going to help the desire that was rapidly becoming a painful need was to feel him buried inside of me, to feel him making me his.
That rumble vibrated through him and into me as his weight shifted when he balanced on one arm to reach out to the nightstand.
Again, he rolled us, moving me on top as he reached between us to slide on the condom.
“Babe,” he said, his eyes at half-mast as he held his cock at the base. “I need to be inside of you,” he said, his words making my belly wobble. “Now.”
On a whimper, I rose up, positioning over him, then lowering down, feeling the delicious stretch of him as he slid inside of me.