Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Jesus Christ,” Dawson muttered. “You’re so tight.”
He eased in and out, arms shaking like he was struggling to go slow. Once my body relaxed and accepted him, his thrusts grew harder and deeper. My gaze was riveted to the tension in his face—his blue eyes had darkened almost gray, and his jaw and cheekbones were set rigid. It was the face of a man intent on bringing me pleasure, even when he’d passed the limit of his control.
Dawson’s eyes came into focus, capturing my stare. Our connection was intense—alarmingly intense—yet there was no way in hell I could look away. Never in my life had I felt so utterly and completely lost in someone, so raw and vulnerable. Yet I wasn’t scared; I felt safe.
Dawson smiled down at me, and I wanted this moment to last forever. But too soon, my body took over. I clenched around him, loving how full he made me feel. Everything else in the world faded except for the sound of our heavy breathing and wet bodies slapping against each other. When I moaned Dawson’s name, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head, he smashed his lips to mine.
“That’s it,” he growled. “That’s all I’ve wanted to see since the moment we met. Now give it all to me so I can fill that beautiful pussy up.”
“Oh God…” My orgasm hit like a tsunami. First the Earth shook, followed by waves and waves of ecstasy that pulled me under. I never wanted to swim back to the surface.
Dawson bit down on my shoulder, making my already vibrating body quiver. Once I started to come down, he picked up his pace, racing toward his own release. His entire body grew stiff, and his face strained as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back into me. I gasped and barely had time to swallow my breath as he reared back and did it a second time. Then again and again. The view was magnificent as I watched this beautiful man fuck me with everything he had. Eventually, he ground down one last time and buried himself deep, letting out a roar as he released. I could feel heat seeping into me, even through the condom.
After such an intense finish, I expected Dawson to collapse or roll off of me. But he didn’t. Instead, his focus stayed on me, easing in and out and swiveling his hips to stroke every last ounce of pleasure from my body. His mouth slid all over my neck, shoulders, and chin, kissing and caressing, soothing and comforting.
With one last sweet kiss, he pulled out and left the room to take care of the condom. He returned a few minutes later with a warm facecloth and used it to gently clean me up before settling back into the bed and lifting me so my head rested on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat as he stroked my hair.
“Get some sleep,” he said softly.
I yawned and snuggled closer. “I don’t think I could get up if I tried.”
He kissed the top of my head. “That’s okay. This is the only place you’re supposed to be.”
***
I woke up confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. Then the ache below my waist reminded me where I’d spent the night, and a smile broke out on my face. Pushing up to my elbows, I found the spot next to me empty, and I looked around Dawson’s room, seeing it for the first time in the light of day. Dark wood bedframe and furniture, light hardwood floors, expensive-looking area rug covering most of it. Very masculine, just like the man who lived here.
Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I jumped. A large tortoise walked from the bathroom in slow motion. “I guess you must be Sheldon, huh?”
The animal stopped mid-step, and his long neck stretched to look up at me. After a good long stare, he went back to walking. I smiled. An interesting pet for an interesting man. But what time was it? There wasn’t a clock on either nightstand, and I had no idea where my cell phone was. I found my green dress wadded into a ball at the foot of the bed, so I stole the sheet from the mattress and wrapped it around me to go searching for Dawson.
And boy, did I find him. Shirtless, wearing gray sweatpants that hung low on his trim waist, he stood at the stove with his back to me, cooking what smelled like bacon. I took a moment to admire the view—the rippled muscles in his back made me wonder if he’d just come from a workout. And were those scratch marks? Oh shit. I must’ve gotten a little carried away when we woke up in the middle of the night for round two.