Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Making Maren come once was already one time too many. It’s late, and I have an early start tomorrow. I asked Mom to bring Katie home in the morning so I can have most of the day with her.
There is no good reason to linger in Maren’s bed.
Except.
“I wanna be inside you when you come this time,” I murmur, tracing circles over her shoulder blade. “I wanna know what you feel like.”
She buries her head in my chest. “Jesus, Tuck.”
“Too much?” My lips twitch.
She’s grinning when she looks up at me. “I’m not going to tell you again—”
“I won’t ask again. I promise. But in return, you have to promise to let me make you come on my dick.”
This time she’s the one who laughs. A big old belly laugh that sends my heart soaring. “You really know how to make a girl swoon.”
“Never said I was romantic.”
“Never said I was kidding.” She toys with my chest hair. “The dirty stuff does make me swoon. Yes. Stay. Please.”
eleven
. . .
Maren
Give and Take
I’m burning up.
Blinking awake, it takes me a minute to figure out why I’m uncomfortably hot beneath the covers. It’s still dark inside my bedroom.
There’s an arm locked around my waist. My back is pulled firmly against something solid, huge. The smells of cinnamon, smoke, and sex fill my head.
Ah, yes. The human furnace that is Tuck is wrapped around me. Naked.
We’re both naked. Both on our sides, his front to my back.
My heart lurches. My eyes go wide.
Oh my God oh my God it really happened.
The dancing and the orgasm and the be a good girl—all of that actually happened last night.
I had sex with Tuck. Rough sex. I’m shocked by how much I liked it. Best sex of my life, no question. Then we talked about everything and nothing until I must have nodded off.
Tuck’s hand flexes on my belly. A tingly rush erupts between my legs.
I’m already wet. Or maybe I never stopped being wet.
I shift slightly to ease the throbbing pressure there, and I wince when I feel how sore I am. Tuck is . . . not a small guy. And the way he moved inside me, deep, trying all those different positions, was definitely a workout.
“You okay?” Tuck’s voice is gravelly with sleep. He kisses my neck, his beard scraping softly against my skin.
My nipples are tight, aching points. “All good. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
He rocks his hips, and I feel the tip of his dick, hard and eager, press against my back. “This woke me up.”
Reaching back, I find his beard. I run my fingertips through it as I rock my hips back. He growls, his hand moving south until he parts me with his middle finger. It glides over my clit, sending a spasm of need through my center, before it sinks slowly inside me.
My breath catches.
One touch, and I’m already on the verge of an orgasm.
“Oh, Tiny, you’re close. Hang on.”
He rolls over. I hear his hand fall heavily on the nightstand. Then there’s the crackle of the condom opening. The mattress shifts as he rolls back over onto his side behind me. He kisses my neck and lifts my leg. I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his girth before lining him up at my entrance.
“Good girl,” he breathes, pushing inside me.
The pressure—the pain—is immediate. My body convulses at the fullness, the pleasure, my pussy tightening around him as he thrusts.
His hand finds my breast. He plays with my nipple. I cry out. His hand clamps around me, his grip fevered. Delicious. Then that hand moves to my clit. He rolls the pads of his first two fingers over me, thrusting quietly all the while.
I feel my orgasm moving closer. I grab blindly at Tuck, finding his side. The muscles here are rock hard, bunching beneath my palm as he moves.
“Close,” I breathe.
He bites my shoulder. “Not yet. I wanna see your face when you come.”
Then he’s pulling out and climbing over me. He uses his leg to urge me onto my back. Urge my legs wider. He settles himself between them and pushes back inside me. He pins me to the mattress with the bulk of his body, settling just enough of his weight on me to make me breathless.
Our eyes meet in the dark. His shimmer, reflecting the light of the stars that streams through a nearby window. He doesn’t look away and neither do I.
Being looked at this way—being seen, known, read, his body moving in time to mine—turns me inside out. The intensity of our connection is totally unexpected. I’ve known this man for a week. How do we understand each other so well already?
The light catches on the slope of his nose. My stomach twists. He’s so, so handsome. Especially when he’s focused this way, his brow creased, nostrils flaring.