Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
He’s watching the state of me as he takes his shirt off, revealing those gorgeous globes of his biceps and shoulders. I was right—they could carry the weight of the world. They could carry me. And pair that with his broad chest and steely abs. I could make a home for myself on his body and would never need a roof over my head.
When his eyes reach the center of me, I whisper, “I look like a disaster, don’t I?”
He looks up, his eyes black. “You look like an angel.”
To prove his point, he glances at my wings.
Which makes me blush even more because on top of my torn dress and open legs, I’ve got wings flanking my body, making a mockery of me. “A fallen angel.”
His hands are on his jeans now and I stop my breaths—I wish I could stop my heart too—so I don’t miss anything. So I don’t miss the thing I so wanted to suck on but am going to have to wait because he’s taking his turn.
And when it comes into view, I squeak.
Now I know why I could see it through his waistband.
Because it’s big. Which is an understatement, but I’m not a writer. I only know how to feel and act and I’m feeling a deep clench in my belly. A deep spasm in my already fluttering pussy. Not only because it’s so big that it touches his belly button but also because it’s so thick that I know I will have to pop my jaw to get him inside.
I don’t even know how it can be contained within the confines of his jeans. There is no way it can be. Maybe he needs special pants for his special dick.
Plus, look at how dark it is.
As dark as the rest of his lust-flushed skin. And slippery. Thanks to all the pre-cum, I think. Even now I see a pearl of it oozing out of the head and dripping down the side, tracing that thick vein.
That I want to trace with my tongue.
And… oh my God, no.
He’s covering it.
He’s produced a condom from somewhere—probably from his jeans pocket or something—and he’s tearing the packet with his teeth and rolling the rubber down his length. That sexy teeth move aside, I absolutely do not like that he’s covering his cock up with latex before going inside of me. Because I don’t want anything between us.
Before I can protest, he grabs my ankles, pulls them to the sides, spreading my legs even more, and gets on the bed. His dick bobs and I imagine a drop of pre-cum oozing out but getting caught up in the stupid condom instead of plopping onto my trembling belly as he comes to situate himself between my thighs. Which wrap around his hips while I rub my heels on the hairs of his bare thighs.
“A pretty angel,” he says as he hovers over me, picking up the thread where we left it before I got distracted by his dick.
Resting my hands on his sculpted sides, I glare at him a little. “I can’t believe you put a condom on.”
He frames my face with his hands. “And a reckless angel.”
I scratch him in response. “I can’t believe I don’t get to suck your dick.”
His lips twitch. “A greedy angel too.”
I scratch him again and just because I’m angry, I say, “I can’t believe it took you this long to just fuck me when I would’ve let you do it a long time ago.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, you would have because you’re my angel.”
And I stop doing what I’m doing because I have to see this. Out of all the sights tonight, this one’s the most important, the most memorable.
Him chuckling.
Him looking so handsome and adorable while doing so.
Him looking like my dream come true.
All my anger melts away and I bring my hands up to his face, pressing my thumbs to the curve of his mouth. “You…”
His eyes go grave. “I know.”
“What?”
His fingers flex around my face. “I’ll be careful.”
“Careful?”
“I swear on my life, Dora,” he promises. “I’ll make it good for you.”
Oh.
That.
Virginity and all that.
Honestly, we’ve come so far and we’ve waited so long that it doesn’t even matter. That’s the last thing on my mind. In fact, the very first thing that’s on my mind right now is the opposite of that.
Which is what I was going to say before.
So I say it now, “I want you to make it hurt.”
He frowns. “What?”
“I want you to rip it. Like you ripped my dress.” Something passes through his face that looks a lot like regret and to stop it, I insist, “I want to bleed for you. Because if I don’t bleed, it didn’t happen, right? And I want it to.” All games aside, this is the truth and I want him to know that for sure. “I want it to happen. I want to lose it to you. I always did. You’re the one I’ve been saving it for and you deserve it the most. You deserve everything from me, Stellan. Everything that I am. Everything that I will be and—”