Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“Holy. . .” Her body bows off my chest. When I stop, she’s still breathing hard, but she rocks back against me. “Pleaaaseee. Just do it.”
“Do what?” I stop moving my fingers.
“Make me come,” she pants.
“No, I don’t think I will.” I take my hand out, and then turn around to walk to the bathroom. She grabs my arm before I’ve even taken my second step. I turn slightly and meet her glare. “What?”
“You can’t just leave me like that.”
“No?” I arch an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you would die without me, on one breath, and on the other, you say you might find another man.”
She growls, her eyes narrowing as she pulls me so I’m facing her completely. She’s still scowling, as she works on the buttons of my dress shirt. Still scowling as she unbuckles my belt, and takes off my pants and boxer briefs. I bite back a laugh, as I help her take off my clothes. When I’m completely naked, I just stand there, waiting. I watch as her hungry eyes roam down my body, taking in every muscle until she reaches my cock. She licks her lips when she gets there, and I have to restrain myself from throwing her on the bed and fucking her. Her hand closes around me and she starts stroking, meeting my eyes again. With her other hand, she cups my balls and starts massaging them. My stomach contracts.
“Fuck, Lyla,” I whisper.
She takes her hands off and pushes my shoulders so I fall on the bed. I don’t, but I indulge her and lie down anyway. She climbs on me and starts sliding on my cock, using it to pleasure herself. I bite my lip to keep myself from stopping her. She’s so fucking hot I can’t stand it. She brings her hands to either side of me, and I position my cock where she wants it — where I need it. She hovers there, her pussy over my cock, her face over mine as her hair falls around us.
“Would you go find another woman?” she asks quietly, her eyes searching mine.
“No.” I scowl. “Fuck no. You know I wouldn’t.”
She smiles that ghost of a smile of hers, and she begins to move up and down my cock slowly. So fucking slowly that my breath leaves me each time she does it. I think I might die from this alone. I’d say it would be a good way to go, but there’s no way in hell I’m dying and letting some other asshole have her. I hold her and flip us over, so I’m on top of her. I pull out and thrust in hard, groaning at the feel of her.
“Fuck, Lach.” She digs her fingernails into my forearms. I set my forehead on hers and breathe for a moment. When I pull back, I wait until she’s looking at me.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“Tell me you’re mine,” she counters with a pant.
“You know I’m yours and only yours.” I thrust again.
She bites her lip to keep from crying out, but sounds escape her anyway. She narrows her eyes on me again when I stop moving.
“I’m yours. Only yours. Forever,” she says, crying out when I really start to fuck her.
I know it’s the calm before the storm, and I don’t know how this will end, but this moment is one I’ll remember for a long time.
CHAPTER 52
LACHLAN
“I’m shocked he didn’t change the locks to this place,” she says, pushing open the door of the guest house in her father’s yard.
We both step in. It must feel weird for her to be back here. It’s weird for me and I’ve only been once. God, that luncheon feels like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it was. Even though time normally seems to fly by, these past three have been the longest of my life. I shut the door and set the empty box we brought on the bed.
“They cleaned it,” she says quietly as she looks around. “But they left it the same.”
I’m not sure if she’s talking to herself or me, but I remain silent. What am I supposed to say? I sit at the edge of the bed as she walks to the bookshelf and stares at it for a moment before she picks up her trophy. It’s so heavy that she needs both hands to carry it, and even then, I can tell she’s getting a bit of a workout from it. I stand up and take it, setting it on the bed for her. She stands over it and stares. I wish I could crawl into her brain and find out what she’s thinking. Is she regretting the decision to quit the sport she loved? Is she sad that instead of trying out for a professional team, she went to med school? I can’t imagine it'll be easy for her to do that, especially when it comes to soccer players.