Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
And yet I grip his head with both hands, pull him to the center of my body, begging for his lips, his teeth, his lust. There is a bottomless well of need inside me, and he keeps pouring and pouring until miraculously I start feeling full.
When I come again, he stands beside the bed and strips his clothes off with quick efficiency. I crack my eyes open to watch him and lift up on one elbow.
“You’re the fantastic one,” I say, my voice cracked and hoarse from screaming his name, alternately begging for mercy and for more.
He is long, sinewy lines and ripples of well-conditioned muscles. He has a runner’s body, but bulkier at the biceps and thighs than I would expect. His shoulders and back are a landscape of sculpted male beauty.
And his dick.
It juts proudly erect from a stack of ridged abs. I swallow, not nervous because I’ve had three kids. I know I can take him, but it’s been so long since anyone was up in there. So long since I had the intimacy of a naked man staring at me the way Judah stares at me now. I would love to gape at him for a few minutes.
He has other ideas.
He reaches into the nightstand and pulls out a condom, making quick work of opening it and sheathing himself.
“For someone who hasn’t done this in four years,” I say, grinning up at him, “you sure are prepared. Exactly how old are those condoms?”
“When was the Harvest Festival?” He climbs onto the bed wearing nothing but a condom and a smile. “I bought them that night on the way home.”
“Cocky,” I say, reaching to wrap my hand around his dick.
“Hopeful,” he chokes out, the smile dropping from his face. “You do know it’s been four years. You do much of that, and this won’t last long.”
I open my legs and nudge his hip, inviting him to come to me.
“Four years, huh?” I wrap my legs around him, hooking my ankles at the base of his spine. “I hope it’s worth the wait.”
I push up at the same moment he thrusts down, and we both go completely still. The first thing I note is how incredibly right it feels, like someone molded me to his proportions. Then I notice that inside this deep pleasure, there is the slightest bit of discomfort.
“Sorry,” he mutters into my neck. “It’s tight.”
I freeze. Edward’s taunting words walk the corridors of my mind, blow through the chambers of my heart.
Things get loose down there.
“What did you say?” I ask, breathing through the discomfort and the shock of pleasure that is not only physical but the bliss of healing.
“It’s just a little tight.” He raises his head to look at me, concern in his eyes. “You okay? Do we need to—”
“Don’t stop.” I explore his back with wandering hands, roam down to the firm curve of his ass, and press him deeper into me. “It feels good.”
He drops his head again, burying it in the curve of my neck, dipping and taking a nipple into the seeking heat of his mouth. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I want to fuck you hard, Sol.”
An electric shock zips up my spine, and I tighten my legs around him.
“As hard as you want,” I whisper into his ear, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to brace myself. “I can take it.”
Bold words because this man tests me, hooking an elbow under my knee and sliding in by slow inches, blunt, hard, heavy. The impact whooshes air from my lungs. He doesn’t pause but finds a spot I didn’t know existed and strokes it over and over and over. He never breaks pace, never loses momentum, never lets up.
“This pussy is so good, Sol,” he groans, flipping me over to my hands and knees, knocking my legs apart. He wraps the length of my hair around one hand and grips my hip with the other, anchoring me in place before he drives back in. “You okay?”
Okay?
Is that weak word supposed to describe how it feels to receive the unrelenting, pounding worship of a man twice my size, but who makes me feel absolutely in charge one second and then completely subbed, bottomed out the next? He puts me how he wants me, turning me onto my side, lifting my leg and taking me with my knee resting on his.
I have no idea how long it goes, but I know I’ve never been fucked like this. We are soaked with each other’s sweat, and my legs are shaking by the time he flips me to my back again, pulls my legs flat against his chest, ankles on his shoulders, and pushes into me.
“I want to see your face,” he says, a gentle hand coaxing my damp hair back. He reaches between us and strokes me, slowly at first, then quickening the pace as my expression crumples with new pleasure. In this position, the penetration is so deep, I come with a crash, screaming so loud I feel the veins straining in my neck.