Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Brush.
Grind.
Wind in small circles to the easy-to-follow beat.
We grin, share sips of his drink, sneak small kisses, and sing along to familiar tunes.
For what feels like hours – despite knowing it’s only minutes – I openly allow myself to do everything it means to be a Slayer.
To be “one of the girls” instead of “one of the boys”.
I dramatically whip my hair around and strike goofy dramatic poses.
Theatrically bat my eyelashes just to get him grinning.
Continuously turn chaste kisses into more lascivious ones that are deeper.
And longer.
And attached to ass grabs from him as well as me.
I eagerly enjoy his embrace, grateful for the opportunity to do it in public without care or concern who may be watching or clicking.
When “Girl Like Me” comes on, it’s impossible to dial back my elation or enthusiasm.
Switching positions so that Tanner’s behind me while I wiggle my hips and pop my ass on the beats presents him with views he struggles to resist. The sight of seeing his name and number and me wearing it with pride has him grinding against me harder.
Panting near my collarbone.
Gripping my inner thigh and possessively growling.
“GreatEight, I can’t wait to get you home, Slayer…” Nips at my neck convince me to let my head loll back onto his shoulder, hips still rolling. “Start the new year with you…” A strong bite of my earlobe has me whimpering. “Inside of you…”
All of a sudden, the music cuts out and counting begins, yet rather than joining them, Tanner swiftly smashes his mouth against mine, forgoing the tradition of waiting for the clock to strike midnight. Our tongues frantically tangle, growing wilder on every lash, faster on every whip, overindulging so recklessly that we easily kiss past the moment of time change and well into my birthday.
My birthday, which is now the first one I’m cellying with another person in years.
And what I’m hoping won’t be the last one I celly with the dude I’ve definitely fallen for.
Chapter 17
Arden
I’ve never had anyone lick chocolate mousse off my nipples.
Or really anything off of me.
And more importantly, I’ve never had it done on my birthday.
Actually.
I’ve never had me done on my birthday.
So major dub here.
Tanner’s offhand fingers avariciously flex around my neck to keep my backside pinned down with my stretched-out arm out of the way at the same time his tongue ravenously swirls around the hardened little nub in his mouth – the hardened nub he’s practically pretzeling his head to reach – determined to bathe it clean of the chocolate mess he made.
Choked whimpers cause him to grin against my sticky skin.
Abandon his hold on my tit.
Bury it between my legs.
Stiffen his digits so that each ferocious pound forces me to fuck his palm while he fucks my pussy.
Every buck is barbaric, accompanied by crazed grunts against my ear that send shivers down my spine and hips and thighs to my toes, which continuously curl as though they’ve learned to spell his name in sign language.
Unrelentingly, my head jerks, knocking into his, anxious for air yet so thankful not to have it.
The burning in my chest grows more and more delectable to the same deliciously delirious rate that his dick dives.
My jaw repeatedly bobs in tandem with my ass bouncing into the inhumane heaving.
Croaks are mimicked by clamping around his cock and clamping around his cock is mirrored by my nails feverishly clawing at his arm for more.
Less.
Mercy.
Savagery.
Drool thoughtlessly dribbles past the corner of my mouth only to be leisurely lapped up and praised, “Such a fucking beauty, birthday girl…”
Waves of wetness tenaciously worship his shaft that’s ceaselessly sliding in and out.
Carving his name into the one place it undeniably belongs.
Has always belonged.
“You ready for me to snow this pretty little pussy?”
The purred question prompts my drenched muscles to thrum.
Body to tremble.
“To put your own point on the board?”
There’s no stopping my eyes from rolling back into my head.
My hips from faltering.
“You wanna light my fucking lamp, Slayer?”
I whimper out the response despite the tight grasp blocking most of the sound, “Yes.”
“Then work for it.” Teeth scrapes are executed along the shell of my ear. “Show me why you belong on my cock.”
Determined and driven air-ridden moans mauling their way out of my chest precede me uninhibitedly throwing my entire frame into every thrust, forcing his dick to stay deep, refusing to let it feel anything other than my sopping wet pussy weeping for its overdue reward.
“Fuckkkkk,” leaves my boyfriend in a low, animalistic grumble alongside more staggered strokes. Faster pops of my lower half are met by more frantic hammering from him, filling the room with a bawdy soundtrack of wet ball slaps and unruly rumbles until the heavenly inevitable is ultimately reached. “Fuck, Arden!”
Yelling my name as torrid torrents tangle with my own blissful pulsations simply encourages me to keep rocking.