Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
A warm gush felt like it sprayed out from between my legs. What was that?
Thatcher let out a savage sound and shoved his finger inside me as he lapped at me like a wild animal who was lost in its own craving. I sobbed out his name as another jolt racked my body at the sight of him. Slowly, I began to come back down, and his tongue was too much. A deep growl and heavy breathing hit my thighs as I lifted up to move off his face. When his eyes met mine, they seemed lost, and an almost-vulnerable look came over his face.
“FUUUCK,” he shouted, and his body jerked.
Realizing what was happening, I swung my gaze to his cock to see thick white ropes of cum coming out with each pump of his hand. He made more sounds of pleasure, but I couldn’t look back to his face. I was transfixed on this. It was incredible.
I wanted to touch it. Taste it. Feel it. He’d shot all that on me last night. I wished I’d been awake to see it. I’d have been able to feel it then. Was it hot? Warm?
“Not enough,” he said, snapping my attention back to his face. He sat up, grabbing my shoulders, and spun me around, then shoved me onto my back. “I want more.” His voice sounded as if he had lost some control. There was a hedonic gleam in his eyes as he opened my legs and began licking at me as if he couldn’t stop himself.
“No,” I begged.
It was still sensitive. Having him down there was almost painful. I squirmed, and he grabbed my hips, holding me still.
“That’s too much, Thatcher,” I whined.
He ignored me and moaned against my clit. That changed things. It wasn’t hurting anymore. The stirring of pleasure was back, and I gasped as he shoved his middle finger inside me.
“Soak my face, little doll.”
I panted his name as I clawed at the sheets. The spark hit, and I bucked off the bed as I exploded.
I felt the wet rush shoot out of me and heard the wetness as he praised me, lapping it up loudly as I continued to shiver.
I sighed in relief when he finally stopped. My eyes were closed, and I was struggling to catch my breath, but I felt completely content.
Thatcher’s hand brushed my hair back from my face. I smiled, enjoying his touch more than anything I could ever remember. The covers came up over me, and I sighed contentedly. His deep, heavy breathing was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep.
• Thirty •
I wanted away from this place.
Capri
In the light of day, last night looked a little different. Maybe if I’d woken up with Thatcher in bed with me, I would have been less aware or focused on what was wrong. Starting with how he had gotten into my house. I had woken up this morning and checked every door and window. Nothing was unlocked or broken. The only helpful thing to come of it was, I did find my phone. It had been in the kitchen near the window by the sink. Which was odd because I swore I’d looked in that area more than once yesterday.
Slamming my car door with a little more force than necessary when I got out at the stables, I glared at Carmen out on the track with Miller. Yes, business was separate, but didn’t I at least deserve to be told they had decided to let Carmen ride Zephyr in the race? Perhaps before or after Thatcher had unleashed his talented tongue between my legs, we could have had this conversation?
Frustrated, I headed for the stables. Thatcher’s car was here, and I wasn’t going to just let this go. He owed me a simple, I decided that Carmen was a better fit for Zephyr. Or something. He also needed to tell me how the hell he had gotten into my house.
Walking inside, I glanced around and didn’t see him in the stalls, then headed for the lounge. The door was open, and he wasn’t in there. I wasn’t going outside until we talked. He had to be in here somewhere. I checked both tact rooms, the office, and headed for the other side when I stopped at the stairs. I’d never been up there. Was that where he could be? Maybe he had his own office up there?
Taking a minute to decide if I should go upstairs or not, I chewed my bottom lip, then decided that, yes, Thatcher was going to talk to me before I went out and exercised horses. Taking the turn midway, I was almost at the top when I heard it. Or her. It was a her.
She was loud.
I gripped the banister tightly.
“GOD! YES! HARDER!” she screamed. “PLEASE! YES, YES, YES, YES!”