Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Between the heat of his words searing my lips and the pressure of his cock grinding against mine, stroking it inside her mouth, having it savagely scrape against the little metal ball so close to my base, so fucking close to my balls, I can’t resist the urge to blow my load even if I wanted to.
Good thing I really fucking want to.
Words of warning attempt to leave me but fail.
Miserably.
Scorching spurts suddenly shoot down our girl’s throat causing it to contract further, an action that only leads to me ferociously pumping harder.
She gulps and gags and struggles to swallow creating a fucked up delectable cycle that gets my balls practically clapping in approval.
“Fuckkkkkkk,” our boyfriend grumbles at the same time he forces my face to observe hers. “Be a good little brat for Sir and watch our pretty fucking whore cry while she swallows us.”
Hot blasts suddenly begin splashing around my dick, rushing to the mix with the ones I’ve already let free. Bunny’s spread and swollen lips tremble around our jerking cocks as her throat ceaselessly works to choke down every single drop from us both.
Black streak after streak runs down her cheeks, painting proof of the pitiless position she’s in.
That she loves to be in.
That she’s only willing to be in for us.
The instant we withdraw our softening shafts, Bunny lifelessly collapses against my leg, a sight that immediately lowers Nolan to a squat.
Has him cupping her face and wiping her cheek with his thumb while whispering, “We’re so lucky you’re ours, Rabbit.”
Reluctance to gently rub the back of her head is non-existent. “So lucky, baby.”
Happy hums precede our partner gingerly swooping her up, stealing a chaste kiss from her lips, and planting her on the counter’s edge near his keys. At that point, he lovingly locks their mouths again, which prompts me to stuff my dick back into my work pants. Two soft spins easily become three, yet ending without a fourth is evidently difficult given the rumble of unhappiness that seeps out of Sir.
He relinquishes his hold to fix his lower half, and I take over the responsibility of properly claiming the mother of our child in the less aggressive nature she deserves.
Appreciates, especially after being skull fucked.
Our tongues lightly touch and tap and exchange “I love yous” until the other portion of our soul slips into the situation.
Demands to know the same.
Feel the same.
Tell us both the same.
We eventually part mouths, however not frames.
Nolan and I each keep a hand planted on Bunny’s hip, a wordless, possessive declaration, she never seems to put up a redlight about.
“Now that you’ve had dinner,” Nolan cheekily smirks, “what are me and The Kid having?”
“Me,” she sassily insists on a widening of her legs. “What else?” Wolfish groans leave me and my best friend in tandem yet rather than letting us act on our starvation, she places a firm hand on each of our chests. “After actual dinner.”
Pumping the breaks has me along with the man beside me displaying matching pouts.
“Cock tease,” he mirthfully grouses, smirk returning.
“Your cock was pleased…” Bunny leans in seductively closer. “Sir.”
New, needier grumbles not only get me chuckling but executing a small ass grab on him. “I’ll cook super-fast.” His gaze cuts over to me. “Like Speed Racer is gonna be fucking jealous fast.”
“Whatcha makin’?”
“Greek chicken quinoa bowls.”
“Why?”
I don’t bother hiding my chuckle. “’Cause it’s healthy.”
“I had a banana for breakfast.”
“Cock doesn’t count, Mutt,” our girl effortlessly interjects. “I checked.”
After flashing her a crooked grin, I inform, “Lean chicken is a great protein-”
“So’s dick,” Nolan playfully huffs.
“Quinoa is better than rice-”
“That’s just what big quinoa wants you to think,” Bunny teases.
“And all the veggies are great for folic acid – something that’s like alternator important when you’re preggers.”
This time the mother of our child offers me a sweet kiss of gratitude versus snark, yet our boyfriend inquires, “And the feta cheese you had me stop to grab?”
Guilt rapidly grows on my face during my innocent shrug. “Babies probably like cheese?”
Laughter leaves us all, and I can’t be more thankful about it.
Last week was back of the junk yard rough.
Turns out being peppered sprayed and getting a minor concussion isn’t the type of three-way a person should ever be a part of.
Bunny spent seven straight days monitoring my vitals and Googling every little possible eye problem I could be experiencing.
Interestingly enough, irritation caused by hovering girlfriend wasn’t anywhere on the list.
And I was.
I tried not to be.
But fuck, I couldn’t take a shit without a knock on the door checking in to see if I strained an eye muscle while pushing.
Honestly?
I get her needing a little more independence post a week of that shit.
And Nolan?
Nolan had to run the shop alone for a week, which I also fucking hated. All I wanted to do was get back under the hood of something, fuck, anything to distract me from the fact that I can’t pick up extra gigs until this McAdams bullshit is handled.