Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“You aren’t the only one who was tortured,” he replies as he looks up at me. I put my hands on the side of my thighs, moving my skirt up a bit so I can straddle him. His hands go to my ass when I sit down on him. I can feel his hard cock under me, and I’m done waiting.
“How much torture was it?” I ask before I put my hand on the side of his face and open my mouth to kiss him and swallow his words. My tongue slides in with his as we kiss. The kiss starts off slow, but then heats up about two seconds later just like it always does. His hands go from my ass and roam up to my back, pulling the shirt that is tucked in it out. His warm hands touch my back, making my hips press down into him.
He groans as I let go of his lips, moving my hand from his face, crisscrossing it in front of me and peeling the shirt off me. Leaving me in a white lace half-cup bra that really doesn’t hide anything. “Fuck,” he hisses, one of his hands going to my ass while the other one pushes the cup down, and he holds my tit before bending his head and taking a nipple into his mouth. I place my hand behind me on his thigh before I grind into him. “I wanted to take my time,” he says when he lets go of my nipple to roll it.
I put my forehead on his. “I think we’ve gone slow enough, don’t you?”
His hand moves from my ass to the other side as he pulls the other cup down, holding my tits on the sides as his thumbs move over my nipples softly, making them achy. “I don’t want to rush you.”
I pant out as I grind up and down on his covered cock. “You aren’t rushing me.”
I run my hands up and down his chest, feeling his heart beating as fast as mine. “I don’t think you understand this, Sierra. There will be no one else after me.” His words drain the air from my lungs. “Not one other person will touch you like this again.”
The back of my neck tingles, as well as my whole body, when I grip his shirt in my hands. I move it up his chest and pull it over his head, tossing it to the side where my shirt is. “I’ve never seen you without your shirt,” I tell him, ignoring what he just said, “but my fingers know every inch of you.” I kiss down his chest, then slowly move off his lap. “Stand up for me,” I ask, and he does, and I finally take in all that is Caleb, all the ridges of his body. The way his chest is defined, but not too much. It’s just fucking perfect, like him. His arms are covered in tattoos all interconnected. An angel on his forearm and then, on the other side, the picture of a football from when he was in college. His tattoo on the right side of his chest with the saying, “A man is not finished when he is defeated. He is finished when he quits.” My nails drag down his chest to his belt. He takes a step back. “Caleb,” I say, “do you want me?”
“More than I want my next breath,” he whispers, and I stare at him as my fingers work his belt. Our chests rise and fall as if we are racing. “I don’t think—”
“You don’t think what?” I ask as I unzip his pants, itching to get my hands and mouth on him.
“I don’t think that I can.” He trails off when my fingertips move over the elastic to his boxers.
“There will be no one else after me,” I repeat the words he said to me not too long ago. “Not one person will touch you like this again. It’s going to be just me.” I step into him and run my nose on his bearded jaw. “Are you okay with that?”
“Take what you want, baby.” I smirk as I push his boxers and jeans over his hips.
“I want you to sit back down and watch me suck your cock.” He pushes his pants all the way down to the floor, kicking off his boots and then stepping out of them, leaving him buck-ass naked. I decide we are going to spend the whole fucking weekend naked. “Oh my.” My eyes trail his thick thighs right up to his cock, making my mouth water. “Sit.” He does, and I crawl to him. Taking the base of his cock in my hand, he hisses. “Answer me”—I move my hand up and down, his cock is so thick I can’t close my hand—“how many times did you come this week thinking about me?” I watch him as I take the tip of his cock into my mouth, and his head goes back.