Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Finally, I sag back, my chest heaving as Wyatt lifts his head from between my legs, grinning wolfishly. He knows that he just made me come in what feels like record time and intensity, and he’s proud of himself.
But what he doesn’t know is that now I’m ready to claim him just as much as he claimed me. “If you,” I get out between pants, “don’t get that cock up here in three seconds, you’re going to be beating off for the rest of your days.”
Wyatt’s grin melts, replaced with raw hunger, and he climbs back up my body, sliding off to kneel next to my face. The look on his face says he thinks he’s in control, but as I cup his balls, rolling the heavy orbs in my hand while turning to my side, I know the truth. I smile lazily as I run my tongue around the head of his cock.
His body galvanizes, and I can feel the power I have over him as I suck him deeper into my mouth. Even with him there, kneeling above me, I’m the one claiming him now, in full control, teasing and torturing him with my slow lips and lashing tongue.
I want him tortured. I want him to understand that he’s mine . . . that as much as he wants to own me, I want to own him.
I want to write my name on his heart.
“H . . . Hazel,” he gasps as I take him into my throat. I don’t speed up; instead I tug on his sack lightly, making him grunt as I hold him, literally, in the palm of my hand. Finally, my nose is buried in the soft tufts of hair at his base, and I look up at him with my eyes full of unsaid words. I stay right there, on the edge of gagging, as long as I can, and then slowly I begin bobbing back and forth on his cock until I can taste the sweet drops of precum on my tongue.
I’m tempted to have more, but my body knows what it really wants. I flick my tongue in his slit before lying back and opening my arms to him. He comes down to me, and again we kiss. He thrusts his hands into my hair, lifting and supporting my head to take the kiss deeper.
It’s not as feral as it was at first, but we’re not being gentle either. We’re nipping, biting, and laying sucking kisses everywhere . . . I’m going to look like I got in a fight with a Hoover and the vacuum won tomorrow, but damned if I care. Not when my nipples are red from his sucking, my pussy is pulsing with want, and my skin is covered with goose bumps, sensitive to his every touch. The bruising of hickeys might be the most obvious way he’s marking me, but there is so much more, so many other ways Wyatt is claiming my body.
With a shift of his hips, I feel him at my entrance, his eyes dark with want. Without saying anything, I wrap my legs around his waist. I score my fingers down his back and he hisses, arching into my touch, and then his hips buck, and he enters me to the hilt in one motion.
I know we’ve had sex before, but the way Wyatt fills me to capacity and then some takes my breath away. He’s rock hard and insistent as he pins me to the mattress, his hips pulling back just enough to give him space to pound into me.
All I can do is hold on, my body rocked as my headboard bangs into the wall, the force of his thrusts shaking the whole bed. We buck, hips grinding and slapping, my clit bumping against his body with every stroke.
In the background, I can hear Lester squawking up a storm, probably startled by the sounds of the crazy humans in the bedroom. I don’t care—all I care about is the feeling of Wyatt inside me, on top of me, claiming me.
“Not . . . going . . . anywhere!” Wyatt grunts, emphasizing his words with punishing thrusts, and I feel him swell. His words trigger me and I come again, the spasms setting him off, and he comes inside me. “Damn it, Haze . . . squeeze me like that. Fucking . . . pussy vise.”
I hold him, not letting him go even after he’s spent, his body sagging with exhaustion as he tries not to crush me.
I pull him down, feeling the ache and sweat of my tired, well-fucked body, and wanting him to melt into me, knowing that I can handle it. In my bones, I feel the truth of his words . . . He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be right here, in my heart, no matter where he physically goes.