Quiet Man: A Dream Man Novella by Kristen Ashley

Author:Kristen Ashley [Ashley, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, motorcycles, Kristen Ashley, Dream Man, 1001 Dark Nights
Publisher: Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
Published: 2019-08-12T23:00:00+00:00

* * * *

I had both arms forward, hands pressing into the headboard, noises forced out of my mouth through my ongoing orgasm with each thrust I took.

Mo was on his knees behind me.

His thighs were so long, he had to fuck me with his legs wide, holding me up and spreading me open so I could take him.

This meant I was suspended from mostly nothing but his driving dick as he fucked me from behind.

I was coming down, how I didn’t know, because each stroke I took blasted against my clit.

But Mo felt it, didn’t like it, and I knew that when he reached around and pinched that sensitive bundle of nerves.

I cried out, whimpered, and came hard again.

“Fuck yeah, Lottie,” he growled, those strong hips of his pistoning into me.

Suddenly, he did a dip and roll, and my eyes went back in my head as my body went into spasm.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he grunted, put me down, coming down with me, covering me, and fucking me to his finish with my belly to the bed.

Man, I loved listening to him come.

Though I preferred watching it.

But considering there was a good possibility he’d fucked a Lottie-sized dent in the bed, I’d take this one as it came.

After he was done, he commenced a slow roll, stroking gently inside as I felt his lips move from the tip of my shoulder, up, then he buried his face in my neck.

“Sweet pussy,” he murmured there, sliding his cock in and staying in. “Sweet little body. Sweet hair. Sweet sex noises. Sweet smell. Seriously sweet fuck. My sweet Lottie.”

“Don’t say things like that when I can’t kiss you,” I mumbled into the pillow.

I felt his smile then I felt his tongue exploring the area behind my ear.

“Don’t do things like that when I need to pass out after coming fifteen times,” I ordered, but did it still mumbling into the pillow.

He nipped the back of my ear, the big lug, and through the tremble that caused, asked in it, “Fifteen?”

“I don’t know. You’ve got a mammoth cock. And you’re a powerhouse. And you fuck like a tank. I lose track of time when you’re fucking me. And place. I don’t know if we’re still in my bedroom. I’m not even sure what year it is.”

I felt that feeling I knew I’d come to love, his gentle laughter, before he slid out, lifted up, rolled me under him, then carefully covered me again with his bulk, taking weight onto a forearm, using his free hand to caress my hip.

I had to tip my chin up to catch his contented, handsome face, but with what I got, I didn’t mind the effort.

“We’re still in your bedroom,” he informed me.

“What year is it?”

“Sweetheart, watching that tight ass of yours while your even tighter pussy takes my cock, I’ve no fucking clue. But I hope I drilled you for a decade.”

“I don’t. We can’t make babies if you drilled me for a decade with a condom on.

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