Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Okay, you are so getting your cock sucked tonight.” She winks, and my cock twitches in my pants. She steps deeper into the room and runs a hand along one of the shelves. “You did all this in the last few days?”
“Yes. You said you needed more room for your heels. Well, now you have it. So no more excuses.”
“This marriage was meant to be just a business transaction, and yet…” She stops at the window. “What are we doing here, Zion?” She uses my first name. She rarely uses my first name.
“This isn’t fake for me, Maven. It’s real,” I confess.
She stares at me for a long moment, then opens her mouth like she’s going to say something but then closes it.
“I have cameras installed around the house. I’ll give you access to them,” I tell her. She nods and glances around the room again. “Let me show you the rest.”
After giving her a tour of the rest of the house, the last stop is our bedroom. Entering the room ahead of her, I place her bag on the leather bench at the end of the bed. The walls in here are a deep green, and the bedframe is made of wood, which matches well with the hardwood flooring and the dark green bedding that’s broken up with earth-toned throw pillows. Above the bed is a gold-framed oil painting of the ocean during a storm.
My phone rings just as she walks in. She takes a moment to absorb everything before turning to me.
“I like it,” she says, smiling. I never thought I would enjoy something so much coming from her mouth. Usually, she has some smart-ass thing to say.
“Pass me your phone. I’ll install the camera system and add all the passwords to your Google Drive.” She does so without a second thought, and I download and install the apps on her phone.
“Do you plan to get that?” she asks as my phone continues to ring.
“No.”
“Boston.”
“Hmm?”
“You should look at me now.” I glance up from her phone to see her standing naked at the end of the bed. “Should we christen your bedroom?”
I drop the phone to the floor and reach for her. “Fuck yes. But it’s our room now,” I say.
“Good. Now, get undressed so I can thank you properly.” She doesn’t waste any time before she starts to undo my pants while I pull my shirt off.
My goddamn phone doesn’t stop ringing, and I know whose ringtone that is, and that I shouldn’t make him wait too long, but I can’t help it. Right now, all I can think about is fucking my wife.
She drops to her knees before my pants are even off and takes my cock in her mouth.
I think…
Fuck.
If this is what married life with her is like, then I wish I’d met her sooner.
THIRTY-THREE
MAVEN
I’ve heard the phrase fucked six ways to Sunday before, but I’d never actually experienced such a thing. I can honestly say, as I straddle his lap, his hands cupping my breasts as I ride his cock, that has now changed. After I made him come with my mouth, he proceeded to flip me over and fuck me so hard that I screamed his name over and over.
But he wasn’t done.
He went out, grabbed a bottle of water, and came straight back, only to get me worked up again and demand that I ride his fucking cock. Each and every time he touches me, it feels possessive, in the best way possible. Turning my heart over and confusing me all at the same time. It’s possibly the most sex I’ve ever had in a day, and possibly the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
How we can go this many times is beyond me, but I’m not complaining.
He sits up as I feel the orgasm building, and his mouth finds mine. He kisses me as I come, not letting me slow the pace of my hips rocking back and forth.
“That’s it, Dynamite.” His phone rings for the umpteenth time as he spills inside me. He flops onto his back, pulling me down with him, and I fall onto his chest.
“Your phone is really fucking annoying,” I grumble.
“Ignore it,” he says, then starts stroking my back as I lie there listening to his heartbeat. “Is Carrie the only person you ever cared for?” he asks.
“Yes. She’s all I’ve ever had. Our adoptive parents, if you could even call them that, were useless,” I tell him. “I haven’t seen or spoken to them since they kicked me out when I turned eighteen. For all I know, they could be dead.” Carrie and I don’t talk about them because they were never really family. We always knew the reason they had us was for the money. We aren’t dumb. “What about your family?”