As it happens, today (July 31) is National Orgasm Day. So, in honor of this momentous occasion…here’s a brand-new snippet from my WIP.
Patrick and Christina’s story doesn’t have a title yet, but the first draft is almost done! These two are so intense and combustible that I almost can’t handle them. Yet as they peel back the layers, they make it to some hard-won moments of cute and sweet, too.
Coming Fall 2019!
XOXO
Miranda
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(Note: if you read this snippet on Instagram, this is the uncensored version. 🙂 )
I was going to come again. Helpless, trapped under his hands and mouth. This was what he meant about coming all night long.
Sensations melted and fused. As I shook with pleasure, my awareness shot back in: hair plastered to my neck, the taste of blood where I’d bitten my tongue, the musky scents of perfume and sex.
“Are you ever going to stop?” I pleaded, in that breathy little voice that came out only with Patrick.
His nostrils flared when he raised his head. The flash of wild beast made me shiver.
“Why would I stop when you’re still coming? That would be mean.”
He massaged my clit, holding my knees down with his elbows. Pleasure pulsed, but my pussy was way too sensitive to his knowing touch. My legs shook, my hips bucking uncontrollably. It was so much, so hard, that it was painful.
I was showing Patrick everything.
I groped for the safe word. “Evergreen,” I gasped.
He instantly let go.
“You’re done?”
I nodded.
“Are you okay?”
“I — yes.”
“Is there something else you need me to stop?”
I blinked up at him, heart racing. “No. No, I’m okay. Just give me a minute.” He crouched between my knees, hands fisting the sheets. His cock pointed at me, veined and hungry. “I’m ready to go on.”
His voice went cold. “Roll over.”
*******
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