Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
It was easier to embrace him with passion when I could lie to myself, when I could say it meant nothing, when I knew it would end and I was okay with it. But now, I was very aware of the way I felt for him, that the moment I lost him, I would be devastated. “Because I’m scared…”
“Why?” He brought his face closer to mine, our lips almost touching. He continued to grind into me, smearing himself in the arousal that he squeezed from my slit.
I cupped his face in my hands as I looked into his pretty but hard blue eyes, those of a man who had taken all of me at first glance, who had become a lifeline when I drowned in the Atlantic alone. “Because you’re too good to be true.”
Something like that would usually make him smirk playfully, with a hint of arrogance, but the smile never came. Instead, he continued his hard stare before he shifted his attention to my lips. He closed the distance and kissed me softly, the softest kiss he’d ever given me. A light touch of our mouths. A gentle embrace from a rugged giant. The slowness continued as he shifted his hips and guided the head of his dick to my folds. He found the entrance to my slit and sank in as he kept kissing me, his dick pushing through my tightness until he stopped before I became uncomfortable with too much of his length.
He started to rock into me as his kisses continued, our bodies moving together with aching languidness, like this was my first time ever and he was handling it like a gentleman. His kisses became more passionate and possessive, and soon, he devoured me as his thrusts grew in intensity. He lifted himself over me, his wrists still locked behind my knees, pounding into me with even strokes.
I gripped his forearms as I felt him stretch me over and over, the biggest dick that had ever been inside me. I panted and moaned, the slickness starting and continuing between my legs, dripping down my crack to his sheets below. I already wanted to come, and my body tightened in preparation for it, knowing it was looming over the horizon. Adrien had made me come most of the time, but there were plenty of times when it didn’t happen because I wasn’t feeling it or the position didn’t feel right…lots of reasons. But with Bastien, he delivered every single time, multiple times.
“Fuck, I love watching you come.”
I wasn’t quite there, but he somehow knew I was right on the edge. He could read my body, read the heat in my eyes, feel the tightness that squeezed him with an iron grip. His words, his voice, the sexy look on his face, made me come and shed tears that trailed down my cheeks. My hips tried to buck against him but his wrists kept me in place, and he increased his pace at my enthusiasm, his chest turning red from a flush of arousal. “Bastien…”
“You’re my woman. Say it.”
I didn’t hesitate, swept up in the blissful throes of passion that scorched me from head to toe. “I’m your woman,” I said breathlessly.
“Damn right, you are.” He fucked me harder, pumping into me and giving me his full length, finishing me off while he reached his end. The sexiest moan came from his clenched jaw, his pumps suddenly slowing down as he began to fill me with the load he’d carried in his barrel all night. “This pussy is fucking mine.”
He slowed down until he came to a stop, his dick still hard and stiff inside me. He dropped his head and kissed me again, kissed the corner of my mouth and then my neck, blanketing me with his affection, the sweat from his skin, his smell. Then he began again, fucking me hard right from the start, folding me even more underneath him, his balls tapping against my ass as he screwed me like he hadn’t just done so. “Mine.”
When I woke up the next morning, it was raining.
I could hear it against the roof, hear it pelt the windows. I listened to it for a while, treasuring the peace it brought me as I slowly regained consciousness. When I found the strength to open my eyes, I looked at my world, saw the curtains closed over the windows. My phone was on the nightstand, and I tapped the screen, seeing it was already after noon.
Fuck, I really slept.
Bastien wasn’t there, which wasn’t surprising. He’d probably already worked out, showered, and had breakfast. I got out of bed, stole one of his shirts from his drawer, then opened the doors to the other room.
The fire burned in the hearth, and the TV showed a game, Manchester United versus Southampton. Bastien was in just his sweatpants on the couch, watching the game intently like he had money on it. “Fucking twats don’t know how to kick a damn ball.” He must have already eaten because he had a glass of scotch in front of him.