Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
All of Skye is beautiful, but I swear, when she’s naked, her legs spread, her pussy glistening for me—that’s when she’s at her most beautiful.
“I’m going to make you come, Skye,” I say, my voice low and husky. “I’m going to make you come so many times that you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“No,” she says, “I’ll never beg you to stop.”
“You will.” I stroke my tongue over her clit.
She quivers beneath me. I tug on her flesh and then close my lips over her clit.
“You taste so good, baby,” I say, lapping at her rich cream. “I’ll never get enough. But this isn’t about me.” I glide a finger into her pussy.
That’s it. All it takes.
She shatters around my finger, squeezing me with those sumptuous walls.
Damn. It’s nearly as good as coming myself. In its way, it’s even better. Because that thing going on inside me—where I feel what she feels—breaks me into pieces along with her.
And I want more.
I add another finger, urging her on and then sucking on her clit.
Two orgasms and then three.
I’m exploding along with her, each climax more intense than the last.
She’s a woman who only recently experienced a climax. This will be too much for her. Too much. Pleasure equals pain equals pleasure.
But she takes it.
She takes it all.
“Tell me to stop, Skye,” I say, my voice more like a growl. “Tell me it’s too much. Too much… Too much…”
Except it’s not too much. Not too much for me and not too much for her. This is savage. Primal.
Fucking magnificent.
I pull climax after climax out of her. Any other woman would be begging by now—begging for a release from the pleasure-pain.
Skye is so far from any other woman.
She wins this round—though I’ll never admit it to her—because I can’t wait any longer to ram my cock into her pussy.
I can’t help a soft chuckle. “You are obstinate. Fuck. I have to be inside you.”
Then I’m in her. Her pussy walls are still spasming. I fuck her hard and quick, grinding over her clit so her climaxes continue.
“Braden!” she cries out.
“That’s it, baby. Keep coming. Keep coming. You’re so hot. That’s it. That’s it. Fuck!”
I slam into her.
She’s still spasming as I release, and we come in tandem, her pussy clenching around me with each spurt of my seed into her. Perspiration glistens on her forehead, and her eyes are heavy-lidded.
She’s fucking amazing.
I stay on top of her, our bodies still joined, for a few timeless moments.
And for those few moments, I feel an utter completeness that is foreign to me.
I withdraw and roll onto my back. She snuggles against my shoulder and kisses my flesh.
“That was amazing,” she says.
I don’t look at her. “You didn’t beg.”
The words aren’t harsh, though in my mind she’s been disobedient. I’m not angry with her. I’m freaking amazed by her sheer will.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Any other woman would have begged me to stop. I know a woman’s body. I know that many orgasms are a toll, pleasure morphing to almost pain. But you didn’t beg me to stop.” I shake my head, groaning. “I’ll say it again. You’re my Everest, Skye.”
She giggles. “I think you’ve already climbed me.”
I open my eyes and prop my head in my hand to meet her gaze. “This isn’t funny.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You laughed.”
“I was making a joke. About climbing on top of me?” She smiles.
Except this isn’t funny. Not at all. She’s beautiful, wonderful—an amazing and brilliant woman. And damn, I’ve never met anyone like her. She makes me smile, laugh. She brings me to my fucking knees.
And I’m loving every minute of it.
Which disturbs me more than a little.
“I get what I want, Skye. Always. No matter how long it takes.”
She swallows.
“You gave in to me once. I want it again.”
“And in return?”
“You get me. You’re Braden Black’s girlfriend.”
She bites her lower lip. “I think I’m already Braden Black’s girlfriend. Instagram doesn’t lie, after all.”
She’s being funny again, or trying to be, but I’m not laughing.
And I know I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want from her.
“All right,” I say. “What else do you want?”
She answers quickly. “To be the only one. If you become interested in someone else, you have to tell me, and that will be the end. And I don’t want you to use condoms with me.”
I stay quiet for a few seconds, as if I have to think it over. Truth? I don’t have to think at all.
“Done.”
I close my eyes then, as thoughts explode through me.
How is this happening?
How have I fallen so far from who I thought I was?
I don’t mind being exclusive, but never have I made such a promise to a woman.
I picture seven-year-old Skye racing through a cornfield, frightened and lost, her little heart beating against her chest.
I picture present Skye shooting photos of Addison Ames drinking coffee—paying her dues and using any opportunity to get her name known as a photographer.