Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Just lift it straight up, like a shirt. It doesn’t have an opening like a regular bra.”
He tugged it over my head and then paused, staring at my chest. A moment of insecurity flashed through my subconscious, but I refused to let it show. He had to want me—all of me—or this wouldn’t go anywhere anyway.
“So perfect,” he said finally, his voice gruff. He reached out his hands and lightly squeezed my breasts, lifting them and then running his thumbs over my nipples until they were hard little peaks of aching need. “You are so beautiful. I love your body.”
“And I love yours.” I motioned to his chest. “Off.”
He smiled and slowly pulled his shirt over his head. Fuck, he was beautiful. That abdominal V would be the end of me. I ran a finger down one side, my mouth watering. His erection was huge and hard, even through his sweats, and I couldn’t wait for it to be inside me again.
“Soon,” he whispered, as if he’d read my thoughts. He slid my yoga pants down, his lips turning up as he realized I didn’t have panties on.
I stepped out of them and he ran his hands down the curve of my hips, my thighs, and then up to cup my ass.
“This,” he growled. “I fucking love your ass.”
I frowned. “You don’t think it’s too big?” I almost kicked myself; I never, ever voiced my insecurities in front of anyone but Vanessa and I couldn’t believe it slipped out.
He’d dropped to his knees and gazed up at me in confusion. “Too big? For what? A much smaller man maybe. But for me? Your ass is heaven. Someday, if you trust me, I would very much like to make love to your ass.”
I’d never done anything like that before, but I might with Lars. “You’re huge,” I said with a faint smile, “but I’d be willing to try.”
He smiled just before nuzzling my crotch, his tongue sliding between my folds as he continued massaging my ass with his hands.
“Fuck, that feels amazing,” I murmured, resting one hand in his long hair, stroking it softly as he stroked me.
“You can bend over?” he asked. “Because of your back, I mean.”
“I could probably bend over the edge of the bed, but I need that support.”
“Yes.” He let me get into position on my own. I couldn’t see him but I felt him behind me, his lips on my ass cheeks, hands all over my thighs and then his mouth between my legs again. “Legs closed,” he said. “Is nice this way.”
I clenched with longing as he pushed my knees together and moved behind me. His tongue was hot and wet against my most sensitive parts, and the groan that left me was loud as he licked from my clit to my ass. Thank God I’d showered before he came over.
His mouth was truly the most wicked thing I could have ever imagined touching me there. He went from soft and teasing to rough and gritty, letting his teeth graze my clit and then tongue fucking me just the way he’d promised when we’d texted. He took me right to the edge and then held back, doing it again and again until I was panting with need.
He nibbled my clit and then sucked it hard just as I felt a finger press into my ass. I gasped and came at the same time, my body exploding with pleasure and sensations I’d never felt before. He hadn’t been kidding about coming hard because it was so intense I momentarily blacked out. The aftershocks made me shiver and his finger was still in my ass. I was a willing prisoner and I never wanted this to end.
“Was okay? The ass play?” he asked, slowly getting to his feet.
“Mmm, yes.” I smiled up at him.
“Come.” He helped me up and I sprawled across the bed, still on my stomach because turning over felt like too much work.
“One minute,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom.
“M’kay.” I closed my eyes, still reveling in how good it had been.
Then he was next to me, one hand stroking up and down my back. We rested in silence for a while. I knew more was coming but what we’d just done had been intense and I had a feeling everything we did would be.
I tensed a little when his fingers caressed the scars on my back.
“This was painful?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. Very.”
“Was it a car accident?”
“The scars are from multiple surgeries,” I said, turning my head to look at him. He was on his side, staring down at me intently, as if he were genuinely curious about what had happened. “And no, not a car accident.” I swallowed. “I was at a rehearsal for a fashion show in New York for a new designer. They had me arrive onstage in the air, suspended by cables, to make it look like I was flying. The cables held just fine, but the wooden beam they were attached to at this old theater gave out. I fell about twenty feet and landed on my back. My spine was broken in two places. By the grace of God, my spinal cord wasn’t severed, but it was damaged.”