Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
"I'm packing you in my bag next away game," he growls, kissing his way down my chest. His lips close around my nipple, his sharp bite delivering a shot a bliss right to my clit.
"Yeah? You think I'll fit in there beside your giant jock strap?"
"Giant, huh?"
I kick my flats off, hooking my toes into the back of his sweats to drag them down. "Let me take a look, and I'll get back to you on that."
He chuckles, burying his face between my breasts. "I fucking missed you, Emilia."
"I missed you too."
He lifts his head, grinning at me. "Yeah? You ready to show me how much you missed me?"
"Depends. You ready to put me down so I can?"
His eyes light up as he steps back, slowly lowering me down his body to the floor. I tug his hair just hard enough to hurt before releasing him and then drop to my knees at his feet.
"Fuck," he groans, tipping my head back with his fingers beneath my chin. "You belong on a goddamn throne, but I love the way you look on your knees, princess."
"I know. The proof is right in front of me." I lick my lips, staring at his cock. "Take it out, Whatley. I have measuring to do."
"Nah, baby girl. You're running this show. You take it out."
"Fine." I reach up, planting my hands against his stomach. My gaze locks with his as I embed my nails in his skin through his shirt, raking downward.
He hisses, throwing his head back as his eyes turn my favorite stormy green. "Goddamn, you little minx."
"You said I was running the show," I remind him, yanking the front of his sweats down. His dick immediately springs into view, nearly smacking me in the face. "No underwear? Mighty brave of you, Whatley."
"Figured you'd appreciate that. Get to work, princess."
"Feeling bossy, huh?" I smirk up at him and slowly lean forward, flicking my tongue out. I don't touch his cock, though. Instead, I swirl it over his hipbone.
"Feeling feisty, huh?" he growls, his hands sinking into my hair. "You want me to be bossy with you and take what I want? Is that it?"
"Maybe." I blow across his cock, fascinated at the way he trembles above me. "Or maybe I just want to torture you for a little while, see how much you can take before you beg."
"Not much," he says, a rasp in his voice. "I haven't had that perfect mouth on me in two days. I haven't been inside you in just as long. I'm already losing it."
My heart flutters, my stomach clenching. Lord, he's good at saying exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. It's not an act or manufactured charm with him, either. It's like he can't help but tell me exactly how he really feels. We'll be teasing, and the truth just spills from his lips because he can't contain it. That's so damn sexy to me.
I lean forward, plunging down on him.
"Fuck!" he growls, bucking his hips.
I moan around him, already in heaven. There's just something about this man with his dick in my mouth that's utterly irresistible. His hands tighten in my hair, his hips rocking as if he can't stop the involuntary movements.
"Keep that up and I'll be taking more," he warns me when I reach up to fondle his balls.
My womb clenches, a heatwave rolling through me. I have the power here, but he's still the one in control. Maybe I shouldn't love that so damn much, but I do. The exchange of power is intoxicating.
I roll his heavy balls, tugging gently.
"Fucking hell. You're trying to kill me."
He isn't wrong. I like him out of control. I like him wild. And I really like when he's so turned on that he can't think about anything but me.
He grips my hair, angling my head as he thrusts forward. His dick hits the back of my throat, my lips stretched wide around him.
"Damn, you look beautiful like this, Emilia. Exactly like a fucking angel on her knees," he groans.
I whimper around him, slipping my hand into my pants.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby girl. Play with my pussy for me."
I should not love that he calls it his pussy as much as I do, but I'm soaking wet as I flick my panties aside, my fingers flying across my clit. He grunts, his eyes locked on my hands as he fucks my face harder. His cock hits the back of my throat again and again, each thrust driving me higher, making me wetter. So does every filthy, devoted word that leaves his lips.
"Too bad your mouth is so fucking full right now," he growls, bucking his hips against my face. "I can't hear you moaning my name. You know how much I love it when you're moaning for me like a good little girl."