Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “Go ahead. Tell me.”
“No,” I say, head leaning back. “Oh, god, no. Don’t stop.”
“This is a mistake.” He licks my collarbone, down to my nipple. Latches on, sucks hard, bites harder. I gasp, pulling his hair, as his other hand slips down between my legs.
I groan as he runs a hand along my soaking wet slit. Oh my god, when did I get wet?
He grunts his pleasure as he teases my nipple with his tongue.
“You’re right, it’s a mistake,” I say, biting back moans. “But it feels good, right? And maybe we can ease some of the tension between us.”
“Good point.” He reaches behind me and yanks open the shower stall. I gasp, stumbling backwards. He slams the door, locking it. “Ease the tension.”
I throw myself at him. He bumps against the wall. I kiss him hard, grinding my hips against his. Fuck, wow, he’s really hard right now. His cock is thick and long, so stiff it’s like steel between his legs. I’m practically dry humping his shaft, my arms wrapped around his neck, my tits out and against his warm chest.
My pulse hammers in my ears and between my legs.
“Whatever happened to our contract,” he says, pushing me back.
I yelp, glaring at him. “You mean that stupid piece of paper? Forget about that.”
He pins me against the wall. “Fiona,” he whispers. “You’re going to fuck me up.”
“Good.” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “Just so long as you don’t stop.”
He stares into my eyes for three heart-breaking moments—
Then drops to his knees.
“Yes, wife,” he whispers, slowly peeling my bikini bottom down.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper as he spreads my legs and goes to work. His mouth kisses along my inner thighs, both sides, sucking hard—hard enough to leave a mark.
His mark. His bite.
He’s making me his territory. He’s making me all his.
I moan, head tilted back, losing my mind. He teases me like that for too long, kissing, sucking, working closer and closer to the aching, wet center of my core. Inching, inching, enjoying himself. Hands reaching up to cup my breasts. I grab his hair, pulling it.
Until finally, his tongue finds my clit.
“Fuck,” I moan, shuddering. Pleasure blasts through my core. “Oh my fucking god, Gareth.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, licking me top to bottom, pad of his tongue flat against my pussy. “Oh, fuck, you taste good.”
I hold his hair as he grabs my ass. I open my legs for him, spreading as my back leans against the wall. I stare down at him, at his gorgeous, muscular back, at his incredible face as he licks me, sucking gently, nibbling on my clit before sliding his tongue inside.
My back spasms. “God damn it,” I moan, half laughing, eyes rolling back as bliss slams into my skull. “I’m going to fucking come.”
“Then come for me,” he growls, licking me faster. “Let me taste it, my wife.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, gasping for breath, entire body so tense I think I might shatter.
He slips two fingers deep into my pussy as his tongue rolls delicious circles around my clit.
And I explode.
“Gareth,” I gasp, coming in a firestorm. It’s like every ounce of stress and anxiety I’ve been carrying on my shoulders breaks into a million pieces. I spasm, shaking, unable to stop myself, totally out of control as I come and come. He licks me, keeps his fingers inside of me, driving me wild as the orgasm speeds down my spine, into my brain, flushing my skin pink. Tingling overwhelms my vision.
I collapse down onto a bench, breathing hard. He’s still on his knees, kissing my stomach, my breasts, my inner thigh. He reaches my mouth and I hold him there, tasting his lips. Tasting myself on his tongue.
“Good girl,” he whispers, licking one finger clean. Then he makes me suck the other.
I blink rapidly, eyes blurry. “Well, fuck,” I say.
He laughs. His hands gently put my bathing suit back together. Bottoms up, top in place. Once I’m more or less decent, he turns on the shower.
“Come here,” he says.
I stand, obeying. Too lost in the post-orgasm glow to care much about anything right now.
The water’s fresh and warm. He uses some soap to lather his hands. Slowly, he cleans me, top to bottom, pausing to run his hands over my breasts, down my legs, cleaning me, lovingly and thoroughly.
I stand there, lost in the intensity of his attention.
I’ve never been touched like this before. Never been looked at, never been washed by someone before. He’s gentle, but controlling. Tells me what to do, how to move. When he’s finished, he stands, kisses me gently on the lips, lingering only a moment.
“The contract remains intact,” he says, smirking slightly. “The language specified no sex. But I never said I couldn’t make you come. I consider what we just did a loophole.”