Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I feel like a king as I move next to her while she comes down. With a woozy, giddy look on her face, she turns to me, then glides her hand down my chest. “Finally,” she whispers.
“You wanted my mouth on you that badly?” I ask, laughing and ridiculously turned on all at once.
She shakes her head, naughty and seductive. “Finally, this.”
Wedging her body next to mine, her fingers trace the artwork on my pecs, then travel through my chest hair. I’m not furry, but I don’t manscape. She seems to like it, her fingers nimble as she explores. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” she says, and she is fearless as she spreads her hands across my chest, then my waist.
My desire is a tightrope stretched as far as it can go. But I will wait for her as long as she needs. “I love your hands on me, but I can wait for you, Harlow.”
She meets my gaze, her eyes wide and not at all innocent. “Don’t wait. Fuck me now,” she says in a desperate plea.
My body burns.
I move over her, grab her wrists, and pin them above her head. “I’m going to fuck you whenever you want, but I’m always going to make love to you too.”
She nibbles on the corner of her lips, then says all lingering and bold, “Start now.”
37
MY GIFT
Harlow
An hour or so ago, everything felt wrong.
Now, everything about tonight is right once more. From the way Bridger holds my wrists tight to the way he gazes down at my face, sweeps his lips along my neck, asking, “Do you want to ride my cock, honey?”
His mouth.
His beautifully filthy mouth.
I shiver.
I turn wetter, hotter.
Breathless, I answer him with, “I want it all.”
He gives a soft chuckle. “You can have everything, but not all at once.”
I collect my thoughts. “I want you like this,” I confess, looking up at him, his strong arms braced over me, his firm body covering mine. This is my fantasy, and yet… “Only, it’s supposed to feel better if I’m on top of you.”
In a flash, he lets go, shifts to his back, and pulls me over so I’m straddling him. He covers my stomach with his palm. “Mmm. How about you take your time like this? Make sure it feels good,” he says, then travels a hand to my right breast, squeezing. I moan loudly. He groans faintly, then seems to shove off his own desire. “I can touch you,” he says, with another squeeze. “And you find your pace.”
The man loves my tits. And I love watching him play with them, so I help him along, reaching for his other hand, so he can cup and squeeze both.
Like that, I rock gently against his erection, my wetness coating him, a preview of what’s to come.
Most likely, me.
Any second.
I’m that turned on. That aroused. That wound up.
He seems to be too. His eyes go dark. His jaw tightens. He’s a picture of coiled restraint. A man about to snap with lust. And yet, he’s waiting for me. I reach for the nightstand, grapple around for a condom, then hand it to him.
He sits up, opens it.
I can’t take my eyes off him. Seeing him like this makes my throat dry and heart pound.
He rolls on the protection, then holds the base of his cock for me. And…wow.
That’s so wickedly sexy.
So deliciously dirty.
The man I’ve craved for the last year of my life, the man I’ve pictured taking me, is here in my bed. In my home. Under me.
Offering his dick to me like a gift.
Like the present I wished for when I turned twenty-one.
And now, a few months later, I’m unwrapping the present the rest of the way.
I rise up and rub my center against the head of his dick.
Yes, happy birthday to me.
Gripping him, I guide his length to me like I’m his north star tonight. Maybe I’ve been his north star for a while too. The thought stirs wild emotions in me.
Slowly, luxuriously, I sink down on him.
I press my palms to his chest, adjusting to the stretch, the intrusion.
The wonderful, wicked intrusion.
It hurts at first, and the pain stretches to my belly as I adjust to all this…newness.
He reads my reactions as he slides a hand up my chest, to my neck, into my hair. His hand is tender but passionate. “My beautiful woman,” he says, like he can’t take his eyes off me.
If any word could turn me fiery tonight, I wouldn’t have picked that one.
My.
But said in his gravelly voice, with reverence, with lust, that word thrills me.
Tonight, he can be mine.
And now, nothing hurts. The pain washes away, and in its place comes something incredible.
Him and me, moving together.
His hands on my hips, gripping me.
Mine on his chest, owning him.
His eyes roaming over me, adoring me.