Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“This will only take a few minutes,” I tell her, stepping forward to slowly run my hand up her leg. Her hips fidget on the bed, and I place both of my hands on her ass, squeezing gently. “Please cooperate.”
“Yes, Detective.”
I move my hands back to her thighs, sliding up them gently until I take a detour and move my fingers right to her pussy. She’s wet—fucking soaked—and my cock grows hard in my pants.
Technically, I don’t have time for this.
Technically, Shane is probably already waiting for me at the station.
But, yeah, I only have so much willpower when it comes to a naked Hannah spread out on my bed, role-playing for my enjoyment.
I slide one finger inside her.
“Can you feel any . . .” She pauses, and the faintest moan escapes her lungs. “Any . . . uh . . . weapons, Detective?”
“No, but I think I’m going to have to do a more thorough search,” I answer, and make a point to snag a condom from my nightstand and loudly unbuckle my belt, ripping it out of the loops. I drop it down onto the bed, right beside her head, and I don’t miss the way her hips wiggle into the mattress. My zipper is next, and then, I’m pulling my hard cock out of my pants.
I kneel on the bed, between her spread thighs, and grip her hips to lift her ass in the air so she has to rest on her knees.
“Is this going to hurt, Detective?” she asks, as I press the tip of my cock at her entrance.
“No,” I say, quickly sliding the condom on before I start to push myself in. “But it might feel a little strange.”
When I’m all the way inside her, my cock pressed to the hilt and her warm, tight pussy wrapped around me, she moans.
“Should it feel good?” she asks, and I grip her perfect ass in my big hands.
“Does it feel good?”
“Y-yes. It feels good. Really, really good,” she whimpers and starts moving her hips in time with mine. It only makes me go deeper inside her.
“Fuck,” I groan and clench my jaw as my impending climax takes root at the base of my spine, way too damn early. I drop the serious-cop act immediately. “Damnit, Hannah, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to last long, baby. You feel too fucking good,” I say through a half laugh, half groan.
Hannah giggles, but when I stroke my cock in and out of her a few quick times, moans replace her laughs. I reach around her waist and press a finger to her clit, gently massaging the tiny bud in the circular motion I know drives her wild.
Her pussy clenches around me, and it takes an insane amount of willpower not to come on the spot, but I stay strong and hold back my climax until I can feel Hannah’s body go lax beneath mine. Incoherent moans escape her throat as she lets her head fall into the mattress, and her pussy milks my cock in rhythmic waves.
Only then do I grip her hips and thrust into her with the deep, heavy strokes that push me over the edge.
“Good job, Detective.” That’s the first thing out of her mouth, and giggles follow.
I laugh as I wrap my arms around her, my front pressed against her back, and bury my face into her hair and rain kisses to her neck.
Damn, this woman. She’s so perfect it’s not even funny.
8:05 a.m.
Shane: Where are you?
Me: Running a little late.
Shane: You motherfucker. You’re having a little morning delight, aren’t you? I’m here at work, dealing with the neuroses of our boss, and you’re doing a little rub and tickle.
Me: I plead the fifth.
Shane: You’re such a dick. Also, if you don’t show up with a little something-something from Dunn Coffee, I’m going to make sure the week I decide to use my vacation time is when the only other detective available is Franks.
Detective Bernard Franks is the crankiest old bastard in our unit. He’s sixty-three and should’ve retired ten years ago. If you’re ever stuck with him on a case, only two outcomes can occur. Either you do all the work yourself or you let him act like he’s going to do his share and end up missing important shit you need to solve it.
Me: And by a little something-something, you mean . . . ?
Shane: Do you even know me, man?
Me: Two vanilla cream cheese scones and a large latte, add an extra shot of espresso.
Shane: You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, I’d break up with you.
Me: Damn, I didn’t even know we were dating.
Shane: Probably explains why you missed our seven-year anniversary last weekend.
I roll my eyes, laugh, and type out a response.
Me: I’m sorry, honey. I’ll make it up to you.