Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Sunny seems oblivious to my condition, despite the fact that my cock had formed a long, thick ridge in the crotch of my jeans. She seems focused on the TV and the movie about the werewolves, which is coming to a bloody and predictable end.
I’m completely focused on her—every time she shifts against me it feels like her small, soft body makes more contact with mine. I’ve been starved for physical touch for so long, though I don’t think I knew it until now. I feel like a man who’s been on a hunger strike for years suddenly faced with a juicy steak.
That’s not a very romantic metaphor, but it’s how I fucking feel. Like I’m hungry for Sunny—like I could eat her up if I’m not careful.
That thought brings on another—a fantasy of pushing her down on the couch and spreading her deliciously thick thighs. I wonder if she has on panties under the silky white robe and gown. I wonder if they’re lacy little things I could pull off with my teeth. I wonder if her pussy would get wet for me and if she’d spread her legs willingly to let me in. I wonder what her juices taste like—if she’d moan and quiver under my tongue as I tasted her pussy and she cried my name…
God, I have to stop thinking like this! I give myself a mental slap. What’s wrong with me? Sunny is a sweet, innocent girl and I’m supposed to be her big brother. I can’t be imagining going down on her, picturing her pulling my hair and moaning for me while I part her lower lips with my tongue and tease her tight little clit…
And there I go again. I swear my mind’s in the gutter. Fuck—I wish I could just go jerk off but the movie is almost over and I’m afraid she’d know what I was doing in the bathroom!
At last the movie ends and I breathe a private sigh of relief. Now she’ll go sleep in her room and I can stay out here on the couch and maybe get some relief from this raging erection that refuses to go down.
But when I look down at Sunny again, she’s asleep. Her breathing is soft and even and her eyelashes are like black fans across her high cheekbones. She’s like a little girl, curled against my side, trusting me to take care of her.
I’m surprised at the rush of tenderness that overcomes me. I haven’t felt this emotion—the desire to protect, to cherish and guard—in so long that it feels completely foreign…but also completely right. I just want to keep her safe.
“Guess it’s time to get you to bed, baby,” I murmur, stroking a strand of long, silky hair out of her face.
Sunny mumbles something in her sleep, “Bedtime,” it sounds like and sighs contentedly.
I guess it’s up to me to tuck her in.
8
CONNOR
I scoop Sunny carefully into my arms and she only murmurs a little bit before snuggling her cheek against my chest again. Rising from the couch, I take her down the hallway to her room, which she showed me briefly earlier.
Her bed—a queen size that looks huge to me after the narrow prison bunk I’ve been sleeping in—is neatly made up with a patchwork quilt and soft, fluffy pillows. It looks like Heaven after the flat, dirty mattress and the scratchy wool blankets I’ve been used to these last three years.
I have my hands full so I have to maneuver some to pull back the quilt and sheet so I can slip her into bed, but I manage. Sunny murmurs sleepily and scoots around so that her nightgown rides up. Before I know it, my earlier questions are answered—yes, she’s wearing panties and yes, they’re lacy—but pink lace instead of white like her nightgown.
The sight of her soft little pussy mound under the panties makes my cock get hard all over again. I let out a low, involuntary groan and rub my aching shaft through the brutally tight jeans. God, I need some relief!
I turn to go back to the couch—but first to the bathroom to ease this tension—when I’m surprised by a little hand on mine. Looking down, I see that Sunny’s eyes are half open, looking up at me with a sleepy gaze.
“Don’t go, big brother,” she whispers, clearly half-asleep.
“I have to,” I object. “I’ll find a blanket and sleep on the couch.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Don’t want you out there. Sleep in here—with me.”
“In the same bed, you mean?” I can’t believe she’s asking me this—that she’s trusting me this much.
“Mmm-hmm.” She nods. “Come on—come to bed.”
“I don’t have any pajamas with me,” I object. Of course, Branson didn’t know I’d be staying overnight so he didn’t buy me any. I’d been planning to sleep in my clothes on her couch, but I don’t want to get in bed with my clothes on—I might mess up her sheets.