Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
To have an adventure …
“Roll over,” he says, helping me flip onto my back.
He’s peering down at me with a sweet smile when I open my eyes, which does things to my heart that I choose to ignore.
“Are you tired?” he teases. His features are so bright, so clear. It’s impossible not to smile at him.
“What does it look like to you?”
“What does it look like to me?” He tilts his head to the side. “It looks like you’re far less stressed than you were this afternoon.” He runs a hand up the inside of my thigh, setting off a firework display inside my belly. “And you look even more beautiful lying naked on my bed, spread out just for me.”
I glance down to see his cock still rigid. Still needing a release. Still ready for me.
“How did you not come from that?” I ask. “I’ve gotten off twice, and you … haven’t?”
He scoots me up to the middle of the bed.
“I didn’t come because I wanted to ensure you were satisfied,” he says. “And when I get off, I want to be looking at your pretty face. Not that your ass isn’t amazing.”
I laugh, blushing.
“But I want to see you.” He winks at me as he spreads my legs and places himself between them. “Is this okay?”
What kind of question is that?
“This is perfect,” I say, spreading wider for him. “I want to watch you fall apart, too.”
And I do.
Even though I’ve often loathed it when a man hovers over me when he gets off, mostly because I’ve not gotten close to a release, I need to see this man fall apart.
Tate puts a hand next to my head before positioning himself once again at my opening. He enters me slowly this time, sinking into me inch by precious inch.
I moan softly as he hovers over me, moving in and out in a lazily perfect rhythm.
His mouth lowers, his eyes searching mine. My heart swells in my chest as I lift my head, meeting him suspended in the middle. He takes a quick breath before capturing my lips with his.
This round is different from the others. It’s not less or more, just not the same. It’s without the fire and passion of the first two. Instead, it’s sweeter with more connection.
Although I have absolutely no business leaning into this version of sex with him, I can’t help myself.
I wrap my arms around his middle, feeling the sheen of sweat coating his skin and his muscles flexing.
Just as my core tightens and that now familiar fire begins to catch, Tate’s body begins to tremble.
“Come,” I whisper, tilting my hips to get the best angle possible. “I’m ready to come again, too.”
“Fuck.”
He groans, the sound starting deep in his throat and shaking as it passes his lips. I fight to keep my eyes open as my third orgasm of the night sweeps through me.
Tate’s Adam’s apple bobs as the vein in his temple pulses like I saw on the plane.
He pounds into me harder and as deep as he’ll fit, as sweat drips from his forehead onto my chest. He groans again, his face turning red as the climax reaches him.
“Dammit,” he says through gritted teeth.
He sinks into me all the way, holding himself there as he fills the condom with his seed. My body heats as I hold my chest in both hands and moan his name. Back arched. Eyes closed. Pussy firing on all cylinders.
“Does that feel good?” I whisper, squeezing my muscles around him. “It feels so good to me, Tate.”
Finally, he blows out a breath as the last bit of my orgasm fades away. I open my eyes to find his waiting for me.
“Wow,” I say.
He grins in return as he pulls out of me. “I was going to ask you if that was as good for you as it was for me, but there’s no way.”
“Oh, there’s a way.” I giggle. “You’re three for three.”
He laughs. “So you were reminded that you enjoy oral, doggy style, and missionary?”
“No.”
His brows pinch together.
“I discovered I love all three of those things when delivered like you just did,” I say as he lies beside me. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”
He presses his lips together and withholds whatever’s going through his mind. It doesn’t matter. I know he’s pleased with himself—as he should be.
“You said you wanted a bath with candles after dinner,” he says, lightly drawing a line down the center of my chest. “I have a bathtub and candles.”
“So prepared.”
“I do aim to please.”
You do a damn good job of it.
He hops off the bed and removes the condom.
His body flexes—taut, tanned, and strong. He’s a total work of art.
When will I ever get to do this again? When will I ever find myself in bed with a man nearly half my age who is not only willing but also eager to do things to me that no man has ever done before?