Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
I came down to Cap nuzzling my neck.
God, he wasn’t just hot, he was all kinds of sweet.
I put my foot to the bed and heaved him to his back.
Then I went down.
“Baby,” he murmured, sifting his fingers in my hair as I took him into my mouth.
I worked him, lips, tongue, suction and hand, doing this all the while Cap had his fingers curled around the back of my head.
He knew from the first time I went down on him last night I wasn’t into swallowing, so he warned a thick, “Raye.”
I slurped him out of my mouth and went at him with just my hand, but he had other ideas.
He reached and grabbed me under my arms, pulling me on top of him.
I settled astride his hips, grabbed hold and took him inside.
He gripped my hips and controlled the rhythm, alternately watching our connection, my body and my face with a dark, hungry expression on his that was mingled with contentment and something else. Something beautiful. Something I knew was building between us, but it was so big, I wasn’t ready to go there.
Not yet.
I’d just come, and our activities (though mostly the look on his handsome face) were taking me there again.
Eventually, he ordered, “Fuck me faster, baby,” as he slid his thumb to my clit.
I didn’t know how he held off before he took me there again, but his thumb was almost as magical as his tongue, and he had a very big, very pretty dick, so I suppose it wasn’t a surprise that I shot off again before he did.
My back arched and I bounced frantically into it, so while I was having mine, I heard the delicious growly groan and felt the pads of his fingers dig into my flesh when he had his.
“C’mere,” he murmured when I’d slowed down to a lazy glide.
He added a slight tug on my hips that didn’t disconnect us, but I knew what he wanted.
I rested on his chest, tucking my face in his neck.
He turned his head and kissed my forehead.
“’Mornin’, babe,” he whispered.
I smiled.
Considering our first-thing activities ate into my morning time, I forewent my scan of the Republic and pulled my makeup out to the kitchen bar to put it on while Cap cooked me breakfast.
I was nearing the finishing line and about to stroke on my mascara when Cap slid a stack of thick sliced brioche French toast, perfectly browned, toward me. It was covered and sitting in a pool of maple syrup and topped with an oozing pat of butter and fresh raspberries, blackberries and blueberries.
Yesterday (or the day before, or the day before that, you get the picture) I had no brioche (or fresh berries) in my house, so I looked at him quizzically.
“I hit the grocery store before I hit your pad last night,” he explained.
“Sure of yourself?” I teased, pushing aside my makeup to reach for the plate.
He shrugged. “You’re you, and I’m me.”
We were so that.
I shot him a smile and forked in.
He leaned into his forearms on the bar across from me.
I took in his position and the focus he had on my face.
“Oh boy,” I said around my first bite of his ludicrously delicious French toast.
“A couple of things our fuckfest didn’t allow us to get into last night,” he began.
I was me and he was him, and what we had together was a definite thing we were both in deep on, so instead of bracing for the worst, I circled my fork as an invitation for him to go on.
“A while ago, Luke taught me something important.”
I speared a berry.
“What’s that?” I asked before I put it in my mouth.
“When you get pissed and you’re talking with someone you care about, and you don’t wanna say anything you can’t take back, or she’s gonna say something she can’t walk back, or she’s said something that triggers you, you get the fuck outta there and take the time you need to cool down and clear your head.”
“Ah,” I murmured, thinking this Luke was wise, delighted he’d taught this lesson to Cap and thrilled to have an explanation of why he’d walked away the day before like he had, mostly so I’d know in the future what was going down if he did it again.
Not to mention, making note that Luna had been correct. She’d surmised this in our conversation about Cap leaving yesterday morning.
“Taking my bag was a mistake,” Cap went on. “It was an asshole thing to do. I was pissed that you knew I was already pissed, and you made me wait until you got yourself a cup of coffee. It was a strike back, immature and fucked up. I shouldn’t have done it. It made you worry where my head was at. And I was pissed, but I was nowhere near pissed enough to end us.”