Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Sitting up eagerly, I plant my hands on his shoulders, as if they are reins, and start to bounce, my sex clapping down gently on that growing bulge, my knees pushing me up into a lift and bucking forward, back down, press, up again, hips tucking forward.
“Don’t stop,” he rasps, lifting his unsteady hands to unbutton my blouse all the way to my belly button, tugging down my white bra so it hardly cups my breasts any longer, leaving my breasts jiggling in the muted sunlight, my breath sawing in and out in time with the commander’s groans, his length growing impossibly thicker underneath me with every gallop of my lower body, his chest lifting, falling, faster, faster.
“Good girl. Oh fuck, you are such a good little princess, aren’t you?” His tightens his hold on my bottom, pressing down, grinding the juncture of my thighs on his distended inches, a new, tingling sensation taking hold of me, making me gasp. “Keep riding me like that horse, but don’t lift your hips this time. Keep them low and work me rough with that virgin pussy…baby, oh baby, that’s it, just like that. Just like riding. That’s what I fucking need. Faster now. That body already knew how to fuck, it just needed to be on top of a man.”
I’m soaking through the seam of my pants and I don’t know how much moisture is considered too much, too forward to be polite, but I’m beginning to care less and less because now that I’m down and grinding, the way I’ve wanted to since the beginning, there’s a wonderful spot that evokes a throaty moan from my throat. I rub and rub and rub that part of me on Conrad’s thickness, hips rotating and canting up and back, whimpers filling the spring pasture air, some unknown feeling capturing me on all sides, but not confining me. It makes no sense, but I want it, I want it.
“Conrad,” I choke out.
“Go on, baby,” he grits, his hands reaching up to cup my face, stroke his thumbs along my cheekbones. A gentle touch, even though his eyes are wild. “Let your body do what it needs to do.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“No. Nothing hurts my Greta anymore.” His neck muscles are so stark, so strained as he begins to shudder. “Please, baby, you’re making me come.”
I’m making him come.
I’m giving this beautiful, heroic soldier pleasure.
The thrill of that combined with the quickening between my legs has me combusting, my energy skyrocketing and needing somewhere to go. Needing, needing. And I don’t second-guess my urges, I just fall forward and find his mouth with my own, kissing him like it’s the first and last time, sobbing into frenzied tastes of his mouth, his hands in my hair holding me close while he loves me back with his tongue, his hips thrusting up against me like he’s about to die, and thunder cracks all at once, both of us crying out, dampness gushing into my panties that I’m still raking against him without shame, his shaft at its hardest, throbbing, jerking, his face a mask of pleasure as the seed leaves him and drenches his fly, something I never thought in a million years I could find so sexy.
So satisfying.
But I don’t have a moment to revel in what my body has achieved, what the commander’s has achieved, because I’m pinned on my back with Conrad’s left forearm while his right hand unfastens my pants, his chest heaving, heaving.
“Daddy’s licking it up,” he growls. “Don’t try and stop me.”
Daddy?
With that confusing and…oddly endearing and arousing word hanging in the atmosphere, I can’t do anything but lie there, gasping for air, while my pants and underwear are jerked down to my knees and Conrad presses his face tight to flesh that I’ve never shown to anyone, moaning, touching me with shaking fingertips, my eyes going wide in shock as he leans in and laps at me worshipfully. He consumes all of me hungrily, noisily, dragging his tongue through every crease, before moving to my inner thighs where I’m also wet. Licking there, too.
When he’s apparently found enough of what he’s looking for, Conrad prowls above me, obscuring my view of the blue sky, his eyes radiating so much intensity, I cease to breathe. “I’ve fought in more battles than I can count, but I’ve never fought for anything more worthy of guarding with my life than you, princess.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, shaken to my core. Suddenly feeling as though I want to burst into tears. “I’ll remember your words long after you’re gone, Commander.”
Why is he looking at me like I’m crazy?
“Let’s eat, Greta,” he says, slipping my panties and riding pants back into place, but not before planting several kisses in places I’ve never been kissed before. “We should be getting back to the palace soon. I need to speak with the queen.”