Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Whispering, I say, “I’m going to make you feel so good that you’re going to dream about this.”
Tagger licks his lips, then shoves his hands behind his head as if he’s ready for the show to begin. “I already do, so I can’t wait for new material.”
So naughty, but his thoughts inspire me to put on my game face. “You’re starting to sound like me.”
I’ve waited so long to pleasure him like this just to watch him fall apart for me. I lean down and lick his tip just to watch it twitch in reaction. Inspired, I twirl my tongue around him several times before gripping the base and taking him into my mouth to slowly descend the full length. I only reach halfway before I pause for a breath and relax my throat to travel the rest of the distance to my hand.
With tight lips and hollowed cheeks, I slide back up.
“That’s so good, babe.”
Encouraged by his praise and the gentle pressure I feel on the back of my head, I take him again, this time with no break. The tips of his fingers tease through my hair while the sounds of our connection fill my ears. “Look at you,” he breathes, slowly thrusting his length past my lips. My gaze travels up to meet the smolder in his eyes. “That mouth is always so beautiful, but wrapped around me like that? Such a good girl, aren’t you?”
His tone—low with a gravelly growl—has me wanting to please him. I close my eyes and continue going down and sucking up. I take him in, to the sounds of his groans, and catch my breath at the tip. I move faster, his body bucking under me, forcing him to hit the back of my throat. But I love when he loses himself, loses control because of what I’m doing to him. I want all of him, so I take it over and over and over until his pleasure becomes mine. And selfishly, I find my body becoming needy for him. My thoughts scatter, and I go by desire, and pleasure, and act on instinct. “Mmm.” It feels too good to stay quiet.
Reaching forward, he pinches my nipples, sending me spiraling while his hand then slips between my legs, sliding through the slickness he evoked. It’s when he lands on my pulsing bud that I lose all senses and take him even deeper just to feel if he can reach inside to release me.
We’re seeking those fireworks, so our bodies move in tandem, erratic against the other, and then in sync again. His groans of pleasure. My moans of ecstasy. The first gratifying ribbon of his release covers my tongue.
It’s carnal and raw, so fucking sexy that my body gives in in a thrust against his leg.
Just as he finishes, I hit my peak and then tumble into my release. The sweet relief strikes fast and leaves no prisoners as I fall to pieces on top of him, each tremor whispering, “You are his,” as they rattle through my soul. I already knew, but now, I feel so attached that there’s no denying it.
When my heart regulates and my breathing calms, I open my eyes and push myself off his stomach to climb higher until this dead-weight body of mine collapses on his chest. I’m not ready to return to reality. I’m not ready to be a functioning member of society. I just want to lie here all day or move this along to the next stage. The tingling begins again . . .
He chuckles while rubbing my back. “You going to live, Pris?”
“I don’t think so,” I mumble, my eyes closing. My body is worn out, and my mind pleasantly void of my usual troubles. “In fact, I think I’ve already reached the pearly gates.”
He kisses my head. “You always give me hell, but this feels like heaven.”
CHAPTER 22
Tagger
Pris is naked next to me, and I’m somehow supposed to keep my hands or, more importantly, my mouth to myself.
Tucked under my arm, she’s been napping for almost an hour during the storm. But I’m patient. Barely.
It’s a trait I’ve honed since working in finance. The markets move at the speed of light. Thinking quickly on my feet is a given, but studying and predicting what will hit next comes with patience.
It’s peaceful, with the rain falling, the tapping on the roof, and the drops splashing in puddles outside the doors. The animals below don’t even bother me, though the smell takes some acquiring. It’s strange the things I’d forgotten about after being away.
As I look around the loft, it’s kind of cute how she’s made the most of the space. It’s girly with frills and bows, the pink bookcase, and the little glass lamp with the flowers on it sitting on top. It’s the perfect spot to get away since there’s no way her dad can climb that ladder with his bad knee. I’ve never been in her bedroom, but I imagine this is one of the few spaces just for her. Since her mom passed, it’s only Pris and men out here on the ranch.