Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
This is going to be fun.
I can’t say that under-the-table-head was on my bingo card for tonight, but when an opportunity presents itself, who am I to deny it?
“Babe,” Zeph says in a warning tone, having heard the sound of the garage door opening just as clearly as I had. “If you’re about to do what I think you’re about—” I close my mouth over his tip, my tongue rolling over the delicious bead of moisture as my fist tightens around his veiny base. “Ahh. Fuck.”
Zeph’s whole body trembles, and he scoots down in his chair, giving me more space to roam, and I don’t hesitate to take every advantage as I work him right to the back of my throat. His hand slips beneath the table, digging into the back of my head, and when I hear the familiar sound of the internal garage door opening, a whole new enthusiasm rocks through me, and suddenly my only goal is to bring Zephyr Di Rozé to his knees.
I work him right to his tip before plunging straight back down his thick shaft, taking him inch by inch as I hollow out my cheeks and suck hard, my fist following my every movement. My thighs shake on either side of me, and the subtle squeak that rumbles through his chest is the most heavenly sound I’ve ever heard.
“Thought you’d be out,” I hear Caesar’s voice break through the silence as he moves around his home, probably putting his things down.
“I, uhhh. Nah,” Zeph says, barely holding on as my tongue rolls over his sensitive tip, his hips frantically jolting beneath the table as he struggles to hold his composure. “Tilly is coming over.”
“Oh yeah?” Caesar says, the slightest hint of intrigue in his deep tone, and if Zephyr wasn’t so occupied by the feel of my lips working up and down his cock and the way my tongue traces over the angry veins that lead to his tip, he probably would have noticed. “How’s that going?”
“Uhhh . . . What do you mean?”
Caesar strides over to the table, and I don’t doubt that Zeph can feel the wicked smile pulling at my lips. “You and Tilly,” Caesar clarifies, standing so damn close that I can smell the woodsy cologne he wears, the very same scent that drives me wild with need. “You seem to be hanging out a lot. Something serious going on? You guys dating, or is it something more?”
My fist tightens around his base, and I start pulsing as I listen to the way he stutters out his response. “Uhh . . . fuck. Um, nah,” he finally manages to get out. “Just friends.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Caesar rumbles as I hear the familiar sound of a chair dragging across the floor. I turn just enough to follow the sound, and sure enough, the seat I had only just slid off directly behind me is now occupied by the beast of a man who may or may not have appeared in my dream last night as a well-hung centaur.
Caesar’s long legs settle on either side of me, and it’s a miracle he didn’t end up kicking me in the back.
“Nothing. I’m good,” Zeph says, trying and failing to pull himself together, and as I pick up my speed, he gets even closer to the edge, but just for fun, I think I might drag this out.
“How are classes going?” Caesar questions as if trying to figure out what’s got Zeph being so short with him. “You have that big assessment coming up, right? That’s for your psychology class. Are you prepared?”
Zeph’s hand tightens in my hair, and I can almost imagine the panicked look on his face, knowing just how close he is, but I pull back, releasing him from the torturous confinement of my lips, and work my fist up and down his thick cock.
As I pull back, Zeph releases his hold on my hair. He’s not the type to force something, not unless I’d specifically asked him to play rough, and all he can do is endure it as I slowly work him up and down. I squeeze his tip before trailing my fingers back down to his base, and I grin to myself as his hand falls between his legs, cupping his balls and squeezing as if desperately needing to relieve the ache I’ve put there.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Zeph says, responding a little too late. “I’m ready.”
Caesar shifts beneath the table, and my gaze flicks toward him, watching as he lifts his foot and braces it against his other knee, the same way he’d been sitting at Vixen while Annie was draped over him as though staking claim, and as I watch him, I can’t help but want him.
Even from beneath the table, there’s a profound manliness about him. He screams bossman simply in the way he sits at the table, and there’s nothing more attractive to me.