Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I was woken by kisses. The drag of his hands across my skin as he pulled me down in the chair, my legs nudged open, the burn of his skin as my bare knees bounced against the hard muscle of his thighs. He shouldn't be muscular. Shouldn't have tan skin, cut arms, a defined chest. He should be pale and scrawny. He spent ten hours a day under fluorescents, before computers. But I didn't question how God had blessed him, especially not in moments like this.
He pulled me forward until I was lying on the seat of the chair, my butt hanging off its edge, his touch soft, probing, lifting my legs to the sky and pulling the soft silk of my shorts, the scratchy tease of my thong's lace moving up and then off my legs. And then I was bare before him, his hands pushing up the cotton of my tank, over my breasts, his body stilling when I was fully exposed before him.
"Perfect," he breathed. He ran his hands lightly, from breast to thigh, back and forth, side to side, just the skim of fingertips across skin, just light enough to make me arch into his touch, begging for more with my eyes. I waited. Breathed. Parted my legs before his eyes and lifted my knees until my feet rested on the edge of the chair, and I was fully exposed before him. His gaze dropped, focused on the place between my legs, a soft groan coming from his mouth, his fingertips dragging lower and running softly over my sensitive lips.
"Perfect," he repeated, his fingers brushing up and down over that spot, not pushing, not spreading, just a gentle caress that had me lifting my hips, his name whispering from my lips, wanting, needing more.
Then he pushed a finger inside, and everything changed.
"God..." The curse, tumbling from his lips, as his mouth lowered to mine. Stretching his body forward, the hard muscles of his chest pressed against mine as he kissed me. I wrapped my legs around him, pinned his hand inside me, the gentle movement of that finger causing my breath to catch, my mouth to freeze on his.
"Yes, Brant. Oh my God, yes."
"I love you so much," he whispered, his lips leaving mine, dropping to my neck, his hand pulling my legs apart as he moved down my body, his mouth soft on my skin, a delicious journey downward as his finger continued its perfect tease inside my body. It was amazing what a finger could do. Such a small digit, but able to go exactly right there. My back came off the leather, my breath arrested as he touched some place that made my world go dark. "Don't stop," I whispered. "Oh my God, don't stop."
I couldn't keep my eyes open, but I wanted to. Wanted to see the look on his face, the dark intensity that stole over his face when he watched me. Wanted to see the moment he pulled out his cock, wanted to see the firm head of it, his hand wrapped around the base, the rough stroke across the tight skin as he worked it over.
This was his favorite moment—watching me come. It made the skin on his cock stretch as he hardened to a level past belief. It caused his eyes to darken, his breath to hitch. The muscles in his chest tightened, his hands quickened, my name a broken moan on his lips. And I knew what was coming, what would happen as the shudders ceased, as I tumbled down the delicious hill that was my orgasm. At that moment, the most perfect moment my body would ever know? That was when he would remove his fingers and push himself inside. That was when he would fill me completely before starting a rhythm that would trump whatever ecstasy I had just experienced.
And the knowing, the expectation ... opening my eyes and seeing him prepare himself, his own excited anticipation at what was about to happen—his heavy gaze and pant of his breath as his finger continued its delicious work inside of me—I bucked against his hand and came so hard I broke.
Waves upon waves, the sounds from my mouth senseless, unmeaning. I arched against his hand, humped it like an animal in heat, my body exploding around his finger, the perfect flick of his fingers making my legs kick out, the glimpse of his face, dark intensity, his cock, hard and ready, and I tried to savor it as it stretched, beautiful insanity that turned my world into stars and my body into a constellation. Before I fell from the sky, at the moment when my breath began to catch and my eyes flicked open, he shoved inside of me, and I lost it again.
Hard, fast. He fucked me as if he hated me, but the words spilling out were nothing but love. He bent over me and dug his hands into my hips, holding me tightly in place. As he pumped away, the urgency in his movements carried me higher, spurring my pleasure. This was for him, and that made it for me, knowing that the loss of his control was a gift, a rarity that only I could see. I wrapped my legs around his waist and dug my heels into him as I raked my nails across his chest.