Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Eric leans down and speaks flush with my mouth. “I’m the man who is going to ride you ragged tonight.” He charts a path down my throat with his tongue, licking across my chest from one peak to the other, capturing the bud and sucking it noisily. “And we’re going to find out why you love being called little girl so much, aren’t we? Never called anyone that in my life. But you…that’s your name. Isn’t it, angel?”
Flushing, I nod, unable to give him anything but the truth when I’m looking him in the eye. “I’m a virgin, Eric.”
The way he pauses, tongue mid-lick of my nipple, hair falling into his eye, might be the sexiest vision available on all of planet earth. “A virgin.” He visibly turns that piece of information over and over in his head. When he speaks again, his voice is threadbare, deeper, resonating in my tummy. “I’m still going to ride you ragged, little girl. No help for it.”
I start to tremble.
Not in fear. No, I’m overcome by his words. What he’s doing to me. The flex of his thighs on mine, the way we’ve begun breathing in tandem, that promissory bulge wedged between my thighs, pulsing, elongating.
“I want to go home with you now,” I whisper, my fingers gathering bunches of the front of his shirt, knees scooting open, inviting him to press deeper. “Eric…”
“You’re horny,” he grates softly in my ear.
My nod is embarrassingly eager.
His groan raises goosebumps everywhere on my flesh. “One fuck and you’re going to be whining for it all the time, aren’t you?” He yanks my knees up around his hips and bears down, giving me one rough thrust and I scream into my closed mouth. “Yeah, I’ll be bringing you on the road with me, won’t I? Banging you before and after games. Halftime if you need it. Going to walk out onto the court smelling like your sweet little pussy and I’m going to love it.”
He’s humping me now. Roughly. Through our pants.
Staring me right in the eye, upper lip curled in a snarl.
And I want it.
I think I’ve had an orgasm before. Once when I was taking a bath, I found a spot between my legs that felt really nice to touch, but…wait, the more he drags that ridge up and down the seam of my yoga pants, the more I’m starting to think orgasms don’t merely feel nice. They’re like living things clawing to get free. That’s what I’m experiencing now, this burning grind of my intimate muscles, the lack of oxygen or rational thought. Just sinking my fingers into his juicy athlete’s butt and yanking, yanking him into the juncture of my thighs.
Oh lord, oh lord, what’s coming?
There’s a knock at the door.
“Eric? Greta?”
It’s my father.
If anything, Eric’s hips move faster, his expression turning into a mask of possessiveness. “Not stopping. Can’t stop. Tell him we’ll be right there,” he grunts, shoving my knees higher, folding me in two, body punching and grinding into mine, couch springs complaining loudly beneath us, the sound mingling with our panting breaths. Deep in my sex, there’s a quickening. A glorious inferno of sensation that won’t be held back, scrambling my brain.
And so I’m looking Eric right in the face when I call out, “I-I’m coming, Daddy.”
Something primal flares in Eric’s eyes and he makes a choked sound, his hard body stiffening. Warmth rushes between my legs, his lower body making jerky, stuttered movements. He grinds down roughly, baring his teeth and pushing me over the finish line, which I am quite sure I’ve never been over before now, because my God, I’m whining into his mouth like a baby. He muffles the euphoric sound at the last second, his own throat issuing long, gritty groans that pulsate along my tongue. And there was something, an extra something about looking this man in the eye and saying the word daddy that holds me in thrall, makes me tremble that much harder on the way over the cliff.
We lie there for long moments after the waves of pleasure fade into a glow, his mouth moving possessively but lazily over mine, his hips still pumping slowly, as if the movement is unconscious. Casual ownership that should make me want to slap him again. It doesn’t, though. I’m tripping through a forest of wonder, amazed than another human being can make me forget myself so completely.
I’ll have to be really careful with this man.
Or I might actually break my rules and end up his wife.
The fact that I’m even contemplating such a thing jolts me, inviting Eric’s scrutiny. He opens his mouth to say something when there is another, more insistent knock on the door. “The press is here to get a shot of you signing the contract, Bentley,” comes my father’s voice from the other side. “We need you out here.”