Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Shut up and fuck me, Jesse. I need it.”
I yank my shirt over my head and undo my jeans myself to speed things up, shoving them down as much as I can with Wren on top of me. I do the same with my underwear to free my cock. And then I realize . . . “Shit! I don’t have a condom. Don’t carry them, since I haven’t needed one.”
Her lips twist wryly. “Well, I don’t have one, since I was kidnapped half-ass-naked.”
I let the tip of my cock bump against her clit through her panties, and we both groan. It’s not what either of us wants, but it’s enough. It’ll have to be. I do it again and again, her panties getting slicker and my cock leaking precum until she’s slipping along my length easily.
“I’m clean, protected,” she tells me with hazy eyes. She doesn’t ask, but I know she wants to hear it.
“Me too. I haven’t been with anyone since us. I swear.”
She pulls her panties to the side and together, we guide each other right to the precipice of greatness. This time is different than every other, and when Wren lowers herself onto me, taking me fully in one stroke, I bury my face in the hair at her neck and breathe her in. Sunflowers and vanilla, the scent that’s quintessentially Wren. I think it’s her shampoo or maybe something she puts in her hair, or fuck, for all I know, it’s her natural smell, but it releases a tension inside me that I never knew existed until she took it away.
As I hold steady deep inside her, her pussy quivers, massaging my length with her hot, wet heaven. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
I roll my hips the tiniest bit, staying buried as I thrust into her. She pushes me back, and I lay down on the blanket, letting her ride me. She braces herself on her knees with her hands on my chest, and I can feel the half-moon marks she’s making. I welcome them, want them, needing her to leave some trace that she’s deemed me worthy again, if only for a moment in time.
As she bucks her hips, impaling herself on my cock again and again, her breasts sway above me hypnotically. I grab them, kneading the flesh roughly, and Wren’s head falls forward, followed by her body going lax. She loses her rhythm, focusing on the pleasurable torture I’m giving her nipples—plucking, pinching, and then gently teasing the oversensitive nubs.
But that’s not what either of us wants. I let my hands drop lower, popping her ass sharply. “Keep going,” I command.
I help, though, slipping my hands beneath the fabric of her panties and spreading my fingers wide to hold each cheek in my punishing grip. I want to leave my mark, too, ten little reddened circles to remind her who owns her pussy. I guide her so that she’s slamming down, taking me in so deeply that I’m afraid I’m hurting her, but the echoing sounds that fill the night are full of her desire for more.
If that’s what she wants, I’ll give it to her. I lift my ass, giving her all I can as I buck up to meet her downstrokes. Together, we find a rhythm. “There you go, fuck yourself on my cock. Take whatever you need, it’s all yours. I’m yours.”
She cries out into the night, the moon and me the only witness to her coming again. I feel her juices dripping down over me, running over my balls as the pulses of her pussy massage my length.
“Please, Jesse. I want it, want you,” she gasps. “I want to feel you come inside me.”
Oh, fuck. We’ve had sex dozens of times, but that’s something we’ve never done. And I want that badly. I want to paint her insides with my cum, claim her from the inside out. Right now and forever.
I hold her hips tightly, not letting her move an inch and taking charge, though she’s above me. I chase my own orgasm, pumping into her. In response, I feel her inner muscles squeeze, milking me for it. I grunt as I explode, filling her with jet after jet of my hot cream.
Spent, I collapse to the blanket, holding Wren tightly against me to place a gentle kiss to her forehead. As the sun starts to lighten the sky to a faded purple, I wish we could lay here like this forever, but I know we’re both expected at work in a couple of hours. Life doesn’t stop because we’re figuring our shit out.
Taking a deep breath, I stroke her hair, asking playfully, “Wanna get breakfast?”
Wren looks up at me, one perfectly done brow arching sharply. “I can’t go walking around town in a T-shirt and bare feet.” She wiggles her toes, pointing toward the green shirt that’s lying in a heap on the edge of the blanket.