Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
And now, it’s his rock-hard, ribbed abs I grind my pussy against, his huge hand against my ass holding me tightly to him as he steps backward, and my legs wrap around his hips, never breaking our kiss. I’m lost in my desire, in the way he kisses me with such passion, such ferocity, as if he can’t get enough of me, a kiss I never experienced before Winston.
When he finally pulls his mouth from mine, my eyes blink open, and we’re in a bedroom, a king-sized bed the focal point of the room. Its gray distressed wood head and foot boards pop at either end of the otherwise white bed, its comforter looking fluffy enough that I fear if I jump onto it, it will swallow me whole.
It’s perfectly made, with a couple of decorative pillows and everything.
I turn my smile toward him. “Looks like you set your intentions this morning,” I say, my voice breathy as I try to steady my heart rate.
“And this is my reward for taking care of the minor details,” he replies with a wicked grin before he grips my waist and tosses me into the air. I let out an ear-piercing squeal before I land in the center of his bed, the covers billowing up around me as I feared, and then Winston comes down on top of me, devouring my lips once again.
I feel like a teenager, making out for the first time, except there’s nothing tentative about these kisses. It feels so new and exciting, and I don’t want it to stop.
12
Winston
She’s like a dream, a fantasy come to life beneath me as she instinctively grinds her hips against mine while I kiss her with all I’m worth. Never in my life have I felt such passion just from making out. I swear I could come in my pants this very second if I didn’t care about embarrassing myself, or more importantly, making this good for Cece.
But even as fucking amazing as she feels right now, her little breathy moans and whimpers urging me on and driving me insane with need, there’s a tiny niggling voice in the back of my head. And its name is Guilt.
I know my plan this whole time has been to let her get to know me, to feel connected to me before I told her the whole truth so she’d be more inclined to look past my faults. But with her spilling her life story earlier, how she’s had a lifetime full of infidelity, not only from her ex but from her father as well, it was like a gut-shot, even though I know the real situation I’m in isn’t like that. I just hope she sees it my way and not the technicalities of it all.
I pump against her, the fly of my jeans against the seam of hers, and she cries out in pleasure, so I do it again. I open my eyes, my lips still on hers, my tongue still in her mouth, and see her eyes are tightly shut, her perfect brows furrowed as she shudders.
“Oh God,” she whispers, her hands gripping my biceps, nails digging into the flesh there. I have to do liter to fluid ounce conversions in my mind to keep from shooting my load like a fucking teenager as the slight pain mixes with the pleasure of feeling her hot pussy against my aching cock through our clothes. “Win, I’m—”
Grinding, grinding, grinding… circling my hips as my tongue plunges in and out of her mouth the way I want to fill her drenched heat with my dick, I barely hold onto my control as she throws her head back, breaking our kiss to moan her orgasm to the ceiling as her back arches, pushing her soft tits against my hard chest. The sight, the feel of her, will be burned into my memory for the rest of my days. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, ever heard, and I’ll never be happy unless I get to spend the rest of my life making her come.
She relaxes into the comforter and blinks her eyes open, her face beautifully flushed. She swallows audibly, gives a nervous giggle, and murmurs, “Well, that unexpectedly escalated quickly.”
She wiggles, and my grip on her tightens. “Don’t move, baby.”
She stills, her eyes widening. “Why? What’s wrong? Is there a bug? Oh my God, is there a spider?” She stays perfectly still, but her eyes shoot from left to right.
I chuckle. “No, there’s not a bug or spider. But if you don’t stop wiggling, I’m going to come in my pants like a goddamn thirteen-year-old.”
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead at that, and then lower when she gets a wicked gleam in her eye. She circles her hips beneath me, and I growl, my hand clamping onto her hip to hold her still.