Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Not too much.” Her voice is breathy. “But what if—someone might—”
“Catch us?” I nip at her skin, and she tilts her head, giving me better access. “I know. Better make this count then if we’re risking it, yeah?”
She arches her back, burying her ass in the cradle of my hips. “Yeah. So what am I gonna be riding?”
Of course she’s into this.
Of course she’s being playful.
I am a dead man.
“My hand.” Using said hand, I thumb her chin. “My mouth.” Turn her head and guide her mouth up to mine. “Anything you need to get you where you wanna go.”
I kiss her. My top lip is caught between hers, and her tongue glides through the seam of my open lips.
This woman.
This fucking woman.
She’s learning to not only ask for what she wants, but to take it too.
Those are lessons she learned from me. Me. The guy no one takes seriously. The guy who’d never be good enough for Sally Powell.
But apparently, Sally seems to think I’m pretty damn good at this.
Just like that, I’m hard.
This time, I don’t try to hide it from her. I press my erection into her back. My head is so sensitive that even through our clothes, I can feel how soft she is in the spot where her lower back curves into her ass.
Sally manages to reach behind us. Reach between us to fondle my dick.
“What can I do, Wy?” she pants. “Show me how to make you feel good. I wanna make you feel good.”
She gasps when I give the rope a tug.
“How ’bout I show you how I’m gonna make you feel good? I’m doin’ it already, ain’t I? The rope on your tits?”
“Jesus, your mouth is filthy.”
“Yes ma’am, it is.” Placing a hand on her chest, I slip it inside the V of her denim button-up shirt. “Tell me you’re gonna keep it busy.”
Because she’s smart as a fucking whip, Sally picks up what I’m laying down. “I’ll—yes, I…have some ideas.”
“So do I. Turns me on”—I thrust my hips—“to know you want me as bad as I want you. And I want you bad, Sunshine.”
She squeezes my bulge. “I want you, Wy. I can’t—I haven’t stopped thinking about last night—”
I growl and bite down on her neck, vampire-style. At the same time, I cup her breast, using my fingers to push down the rope so I can pinch her nipple through her bra. She yelps again, louder.
“You yell and get us caught—”
“What are you gonna do?” She’s working her hand up and down my dick over my jeans now. “Maybe you need to keep my mouth busy, then.”
A shock wave of need rips through me as the fantasy takes shape. Me pushing Sally to her knees. Binding her hands behind her back. Grabbing her head and shoving my dick inside her mouth, pounding into her until I finish. She swallows my cum, all of it, and when I lean down to kiss her mouth she murmurs, I love the way you taste.
Would she really like me being so rough with her? Would I scare her?
Would I turn her on even more? And what would she say if she saw the tattoo on my thigh?
“Oh, sugar, I plan on it.” I thumb her nipple. It pebbles against the lace, tiny and perfect and achingly soft, and Sally’s breath catches. “Lemme show you how it’s done.”
Giving her nipple a pinch, I kiss her neck as I unbutton her shirt. I trail my fingertips over the bare skin of her belly, her stomach caving as she lets out a little moan.
“That’s it. Keep tellin’ me what you like.” I push my dick against her. “Feel how much that turns me on? Don’t stop.”
She moans again when I unbutton her jeans and pull down the fly. She’s panting now, hips rolling against my hard-on, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the friction from making me lose my goddamn mind. ’Cause losing my mind would look an awful lot like me bending Sally over a nearby blanket bar and fucking her bare.
It’d look an awful lot like me telling her I want so much more than just sex.
I’m an animal. She’s an angel. I gotta stay in control.
She don’t make it easy. I slide my hand inside her jeans and find cotton panties, edged with lace. My heart skips a beat. These are similar to the ones she was wearing when we went skinny-dipping that day twelve years ago.
I wanted to get inside ’em then.
I can’t fucking believe I finally get to do it now. My fingers tremble as I press them against her pussy through the cotton. She’s hot. The fabric gets damp as I keep pressing, gently guiding her lips apart with my finger.
“Wyatt, oh my God,” she breathes, her shoulders falling back against my chest.