Savor (Cottonwood Falls, Book 5) Read Online Free PDF

thrusts raised her up on her toes as his
fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. Her legs trembled with
exhaustion, but her lover showed no sign of slowing.
    Air passed her lips in pants and whimpers. Her voice
had long since become raw from previous orgasmic screams. Piers had
taken her hard and fast the first time. Now, he was working it. And
her.
    Her legs wobbled again, and she willed more strength
in them. He fisted hair, drawing her head back.
    “I don’t want to stop fucking you.” His voice, akin
to velvety sandpaper, rasped along the skin of her neck.
    “Then, don’t,” she gasped, another orgasm teetering
near. “Ah, shit.”
    He nipped her shoulder. “I’ve got you, baby. Let it
go.”
    She took his at his word and gave up trying to stave
off the roiling orgasm as she allowed the couch and him to support
her weight. His cock drove up into her, catapulting her off the
precipice and into a swirling mass of pleasure and delight.
    He latched his mouth onto the side of her neck, one
hand still in her hair, the other cupping her breast, fingers
pinching the pebbled nipple. She shuddered with euphoric bliss.
    “I could fuck this pussy forever,” he growled
against her skin.
    She struggled to keep her breathing controlled. A
failed operation. He thrust again and again. Sinking in,
withdrawing until only the tip remained then slamming back,
eliciting another gasp as he came deep. The experience of his
pulsating cock wrung out a final orgasm from her.
    He released her nipple and wrapped his arm about her
waist. Still embedded within her, he walked them to the large dark
oak table overlooking a massive yard. Piers withdrew, turned her so
they faced one another then spread her legs again.
    The wood was cold beneath her ass. He stepped
between her legs, and she reached out with one hand, wrapping it
around the nape of his neck to encourage him closer. “Table?” Her
throat was still raw.
    “Couch, table, counter. Rug.” He dominated her
mouth. “We’ll make it to bed, eventually.” He grasped his cock and
stroked it while pinning his intense gaze on her.
    “What the hell?” she muttered before kissing him
again. I may as well do what I want here. I’ve already crossed a
line. And…he’s…so damn good. “Let’s do this.”
    His rumbled response was lost as their mouths mashed
together.
    ***
    London stirred then groaned. Aching muscles
screamed, and she stilled. I’m sore. Oh, my God, I’m sore.
Amazingly sore. And it was well worth it.
    She cracked open her eyes, gazing about the massive
bedroom. Where is he?
    The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the bed retained the
warmth from the man it belonged to. Turning her head, she stared at
the soft blue digital numbers on the wall. Three minutes after
four.
    London sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. A low
divider separated the room into two sections, his bed on one side
while the other had chairs and a fireplace. Plus the rug that
gave me the burn on my knees. Low flames flickered in the
hearth.
    She chewed on her lower lip as she sought her
clothing. No luck. Her socks were on the floor, but other than
that, nothing. Crap. An article of attire hung over the
divider, and she slipped from the smooth sheets. It was Piers’
black button down, and she drew it on, loving how his scent
surrounded her as the material fell around her.
    After pausing by the fireplace, she padded out of
the room and down the carpeted stairs to the first floor. A glow
from another fireplace drew her, and she walked in. Piers sat in a
large recliner, a drink in his hand.
    “Did I wake you?”
    “Nope,” she said, walking nearer to his seated
form.
    He beckoned her closer when she stopped away from
him. The moment she reached him, he snaked his arm around her
waist.
    “I like you in my shirt.”
    She gazed askew at him, his tone bothering her being
flat and devoid of emotion. “Everything okay?”
    He inched up the skin on her thigh, fingertips
singeing her where they touched.