Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
She trembled, but I knew it wasn’t fear shaking through that frame.
It was desire.
My hands slipped under the shirt, finding the warmth of her bare skin beneath.
Emily gasped and shivered.
My hand slowly glided up her side and moved towards her breasts.
She leaned back, ending our kiss and panting.
I licked my lips and captured those sensual mounds of softness that my fingers were aching to caress.
The moment my palms cupped her breasts’ fullness, she moaned, and heat shot through me.
Fuck, I want you so bad.
She arched against me, pushing herself further into my grasp. My thumbs brushed over the hard buds at her peaks, stroking them in gentle circles.
Saxophone notes rose in the car. I had no idea if it was a new song or not. All I cared about was touching my mouse more.
But I had to remember all that she went through.
“Should I stop?” I rubbed her nipples some more. “You know that once I start touching your breasts. . .”
To my surprise, she grabbed the bottom of the shirt and inch by inch lifted the hem up, until she had it over her head and off.
“Mmmm.” I placed my hungry gaze on her beautiful body—those full heavy breasts I cupped, the curve of her sides, the slender shoulders, the new little tummy that Emilio had given her, those thick thighs, and that soft warm pussy that sat on top of me.
My beast roared.
My mind went hazy with desire.
My cock hardened.
I leaned my head to the side and yelled at the driver, “Turn the music up, and drive very fucking slow!”
“Yes. . .sir.”
Chapter twenty-two
The Taste of Her
Kazimir
The volume rose as the car slowed down and the engine throbbed and the cityscape outside the darkened windows blurred.
My focus remained on my mouse.
I had no interest in the city passing; all I cared about was the intoxicating woman straddling me in the backseat.
A wicked smirk spread across Emily’s face as she reached down between us and unbuttoned my pants.
Shivers of anticipation ran down my spine.
I squeezed those nipples.
She moaned.
“Hmmm. At least your voice isn’t completely gone.” I sneered as she unzipped my pants. “I like hearing how you sound when my cock is deep inside you.”
Another soft moan left her.
With an almost poetic grace, Emily slid her hand into my pants, making me shudder at the warmth of her touch.
Fuck.
She cupped my balls. Surely, they were heavy in those fingers, ready to spill cum all over her.
She licked her lips, let go of my balls, and wrapped those slender fingers around my shaft, just enough to apply a teasing pressure that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through me.
I let go of her breasts and put us in an awkward position so I could pull down my pants and briefs. It caused her to rise up and hold my shoulders to keep balance.
Once I slid those briefs down my thighs, I sat back on the seat and repositioned her on me.
That was when I realized how wet her pussy was.
A primal groan ripped from my throat. “You are going to be so pregnant when you leave New Orleans.”
She opened her mouth and then shook her head.
“There is no running from it, mysh.” I nipped at her bottom lip.
Her seductive chuckle echoed in the close quarters. It wasn’t as strong as usual, more faint and hoarse, but I loved it.
She wagged a finger at me.
Every beat of my heart thundered in my cock, each pulse engorging my length with barely repressed desire.
“I do not know what you are trying to tell me, mysh, but I want you on my cock. Riding it hard.”
She widened her eyes.
“Now.”
Smirking, She shifted her weight and began to lower herself onto me.
“Yes.”
Her hand guided my cock to her entrance. That pussy dripped onto the tip.
I groaned. “Yes, mysh. Come here.”
She sunk down onto my cock, tearing a guttural groan from me.
Even through the haze of pleasure, I noticed my mouse fit perfectly against me—our bodies molded together like two separate pieces of a complex puzzle.
My eyes were riveted to the sight of us joined right at the place where my cock disappeared into her body—a sight so sinfully erotic it shot straight to my gut and wrapped around me like a vice.
Then, she began to move those hips, rhythmically atop mine.
Goddamn it.
Each sliding, grinding motion drew another low moan from my lips as she began to ride me with unrestrained passion.
Her breast bounced.
It was almost hypnotic, creating a sensory vortex that held me captive within its spinning core.
All else dissolved into insignificance—the city speeding by outside, the news of her personalities, the dilemma of the witch.
All that mattered was the white-hot pleasure unspooling in my cock.
Tightening.
Coiling.
Building to an intensity that promised a mind-shattering climax.
I was helpless against her pussy and the sway of her twists.
She moaned.
“Fuck,” I breathed, sinking my fingers into the soft flesh of her hips and matching the rhythm of her gyrations with short snaps of my hips.