Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
For some reason, this endears me to him even more. While this position, the idea of riding him like a cowgirl, is hot, he chose it for a reason.
Me.
I push up onto my knees so I’m hovering over him. Our gazes are still locked as I shift a little, lowering myself down so the broad head is at my entrance.
“Ready?” I ask.
“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
I don’t think he’s serious, so I don’t respond. Only slowly lower onto him. He enters me, fills me. Stretches me. I grip his shoulders for balance as I raise and lower myself, taking him an inch at a time until I’m completely full.
He sets his feet on the bed and bends his knees so I sit in the cradle of his body.
He gently pushes between my breasts so I lean back against his thighs.
“Oh!” I cry, the rest of him sinking into me with this adjusted angle.
“Fuck, baby. Stop that or this will be over before we start.”
I’m clenching down around him. He’s thick and it’s just shy of painful the way he fills me.
“I can’t help it,” I whisper, and then I start to move.
He settles his hands on my hips, helping me lift and lower.
It feels so good. Amazing because he got me all primed with that first orgasm. I’m sensitive and swollen and three-quarters toward coming again. It’s nothing like…
“Hey.” He cups my breasts.
I didn’t realize my eyes fell closed but I meet his dark gaze.
“Look at me. Keep those green eyes open. It’s you and me. Just us.”
I nod and chase my orgasm as our gazes hold. I circle my hips as I lower, my clit rubbing against him. I move faster, and then faster still.
Sweat slicks our skin.
“I’m close,” I tell him, but somehow it’s just out of reach.
He licks his thumb and settles it between us so it hits my clit every time I shift.
“Oh,” I moan. Yes, that little bit of extra pressure is what I was missing.
I fuck myself down onto him, hard and steady, and then I’m there.
I scream and hope Miles was right and that he and Chance can’t hear me. Because there’s no way I can keep these sounds in. It’s amazing, the feel of Austin.
Him inside me.
Us.
He thrusts up to meet me, hard. His breathing is ragged and his motions become wild, no rhythm. He’s chasing his own satisfaction and in one, two deep thrusts, he holds himself deep. And he comes.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, falling onto his chest.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close. He’s still deep inside me and I smile.
This. Right here.
Everything.
I’m not sure how long we lie there together, entwined. I only know that I feel safe and happy.
Austin hasn’t moved either.
And I feel complete.
I feel right.
And I never want to move.
17
AUSTIN
* * *
“Austin!”
Hands grip my shoulders. Carly’s hands.
I jerk upward to banging on my bedroom door.
For a moment, I’m back home in Seattle, and the alarm is going off for the early morning cargo run.
But this isn’t Seattle.
And I have a gorgeous woman in my bed. Whose every soft inch I can feel against me. Who came like a dream when I was inside her. Who has so many issues I don’t know where to start, although perhaps it’s a conversation about the scars on her thighs and back. I couldn’t ask her yesterday, not in the middle of something she and I both wanted. So I figure I’d ask her later, in the afterglow. They sure as shit aren’t going anywhere.
Except the afterglow included the best sleep I’ve had in forty Sundays, and apparently it was pretty good for her too, since it’s morning and she’s still here.
But she’s no longer asleep. She’s holding my shoulders with the grip of death.
“Knock it off!” I yell to whoever’s pounding.
“Open up.” It’s Miles. His deep voice carries through the door. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m a little busy,” I say.
What the hell time is it, anyway? I glance at the window. It’s light out, but the sun rises before six.
Carly unclenches her hands from my flesh and crawls out of the other side of the bed, pulling a sheet around her, and races into the bathroom, closing the door.
O…kay.
At least I don’t have to explain what she’s doing here, although Miles isn’t stupid. I scramble into my jeans but don’t bother with the button and open the door. “What the fuck do you want?”
Miles, also wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, barges into my room, looking around. I had no idea he had a tattoo on his chest. “Thank God. Rick Vance is here and he’s about ready to blow a freaking gasket. He’s looking for— Oh, Fuck. She’s still here.” Miles’s gaze falls on Carly’s clothes neatly stacked on the chair by the window.