Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
It makes me greedy to take him, to worship him, to remind him he belongs to me as much as I’m his.
His hands cup my ass with a growl that vibrates my bones, dragging me in and grinding me against his cock. Our jeans scrape together.
“You need it bad,” he whispers, cupping my chin. “You too proud to beg for your almost-husband?”
A blush like flames licks my cheeks.
“What can I say?” I press myself against him, my breasts straining in the bra cups against his chest and my nails digging into his neck. “Something about a man promising to devote his entire life to me just turns me on. Please don’t make me wait, Grant. Please.”
The way his eyes ignite like burning leaves when I say that special word slays me.
Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve a man as loyal as Grant Faircross.
I wonder if he’s my prize on the karma wheel for all the terrible things I’ve suffered.
A man who would wait for me for ten years.
A faithful friend.
A lover who gives me his body, his soul, and his entire flaming heart.
But there’s no waiting around now for questions that have no answers.
There’s only our greedy mouths merging in a wild, biting kiss, tongues dueling as we grasp and pull at each other.
Half fighting.
Half moving in tandem.
We peel off the rest of our clothes until we’re gloriously naked, twined together in the dark.
His body moves under mine and his cock slides against my folds.
I can barely breathe through the pleasure arcing through me as I rock against him.
Even with his hands so hot on my skin, so commanding, making me burn everywhere he pleases as he teases at my aching, wet center, he lets me set the pace.
I’m in control, keeping this great beast wrapped around my little finger, letting me do as I please.
Letting me torment us both with the slow-burn rhythm as I move over him, rubbing myself against his burning-hard cock.
Letting me kiss his jaw, his throat, while I arch my back into the flow of his hands over my hips and the curve of my spine.
Letting me tease myself until I’m delirious on his girthy length.
Letting me stroke my chest against his, my nipples pricking and throbbing as his coarse chest hair rouses me with enough friction to make me feel divine.
Letting me capture his face in my hands and kiss him slowly, tenderly, as that heat reaches a simmering peak.
Letting me brace for his power as he boils over.
The frenzy between us briefly calms into cool sweetness, this intense realization that this isn’t just another night.
This isn’t temporary.
It’s not another moment of undeniable passion erupting until it breaks our world.
This is a sacred vow.
This is everything we’ll ever be.
This is us, welded together in a love so desperate it’s totally unbreakable.
And I still want more.
I want to be as close to him as humanly possible.
When he catches my hips, supporting me, he knows what I want without me saying one word as I lift myself up on my knees and position myself over him.
His swollen cock kisses my flesh.
God, I can’t stand it.
I reach down, touch myself, spread myself open for him.
His huge hand falls on mine and he guides my fingers to my clit.
“Show me how bad you want this cock, woman. Your pussy gets my dick wet before I’m inside you.”
Oh, shit.
I’m so not ready as he leads my hand, tracing circles around that soft nub that’s already pure lightning.
And when his fingers push inside me while he urges me to keep going, I’m absolutely gone.
Grant’s fingers delve deep and his eyes never leave mine, every gaze and every thrust searing, melting me from the inside out.
A loud moan rips out of me.
“Bring that little pussy the fuck off, Philia. Come for me now.”
I do.
I lose control like a woman possessed.
And I guess I am.
I’ve completely given myself over to this man who owns me, my core burning and my vision going white.
I see snow.
I see stars.
I see those blazing mocha eyes as I come on his hand, ripped apart by sheer ecstasy.
“More,” he rasps against my lips.
“Grant...”
“Fucking more,” he snarls again, his fingers still going and oh God, how does he always know exactly where to touch me?
His knuckle strokes my inner wall and it’s like flipping a switch.
My orgasm intensifies until I’m deliciously frayed, every part of me curled, gasping and gushing and going down so hard.
My free hand grips his shoulders so hard it must hurt him.
I don’t think he cares.
There’s a mission in his eyes.
He’s going to ruin me tonight—and I’m happy to let him just as long as he keeps me hanging in heaven.
But we’re both so greedy.
A low growl vibrates the room. He barely stops to let me catch my breath.
Then he rears back, just enough to reposition, to let me watch him stroking his massive cock with my slickness.