Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Thrusting my hips, I grind my cock into him, my head already feeling like it’s a balloon floating off my neck and up into the air.
Fuck. He feels good.
Diving back down, I kiss his waist and his hips, his tight skin growing hot on my tongue.
“I thought we’d have a room somewhere,” I tell him my version of the future to contrast his. “Or an apartment or a boat or maybe I’ll keep that shitty Bay motel just for us.”
I trail my mouth down his ass again, kneading his back with my hands and loving every inch I can absorb of him even if he doesn’t.
“I knew you’d never love me,” I say in a raspy voice. “But I knew you’d get off on it, because sex is all about power. And you love bending over a man with a bank account.”
I drag my tongue up his spine, grinding into him in smooth, soft moves. He bends his knee, opening for me, and I settle between his legs, soaking up the warmth on my cock.
Flexing my fist in his hair, I gaze down at him. His forehead is pressed into my blankets—he won’t let me see his face. What is he thinking?
I don’t think I want to know, though. When Dallas is cornered, it’s fight or flight.
“You never liked me, did you?” I ask, not expecting an answer.
I just want him to know that I know. I want him to know that I’m not stupid.
“For me, it was always you.” I come down, my nose in his hair. “Only you. And I don’t even know why, because you’re such a piece of shit, but I always wanted to be where you were.”
The chain hangs off my neck, dragging on his skin.
“I wanted to be everything to you,” I whisper. “Your mother and your father. Your student, your teacher. Your soul.” Slipping the chain over my head, I hook it over his, tugging it down over his face. “You’re mine, and I don’t care what you think of me or that you hate me.” I speak through my teeth. “You’re mine.”
I wrap my hand around the front of his neck, bend it back to kiss and suck his jaw.
“Get your new boyfriend’s shit off me,” he growls.
“I bought it.” Dipping the tip of my tongue out, I taste his skin. “For you.”
His ass is mine. His cock is mine. I own him.
“Dressing me up, huh?” he asks.
Taking the condom, I breathe in his ear. “There will be more,” I tell him. “I want you in lots of my chains.”
Cum drips from my dick, and I groan. Rising up, I rip open the wrapper and roll on the condom. Grabbing the oil, I watch the side of his face as I take my time, reaching between us and rubbing it on him.
No shame comes from saying everything I said. I kept everything locked away, unable to share it with anyone for years.
He’s not good for me. I’m past that.
Now I’m just going to fuck him as many times as it takes to get sick of him.
“Tell me yes,” I pant. “Tell me that I can have you.”
“I’m not fighting you, am I?”
I moan, sinking my mouth into his neck, his shoulder…“Say yes.”
He groans, chills spreading down his arm. “Don’t stop,” he tells me instead.
Good enough.
Holding myself, I thrust, fitting the head into him. “You’re mine.”
I roll my hips again and slide in, feeling his body go rigid as he gasps and fists the blankets.
My eyelids flutter, the feel of him washing over me like a fucking drug, but I withdraw anyway. I want him to enjoy it.
Has he ever bottomed for anyone else other than me?
Rubbing his back, I wait for his breathing to quiet again. It doesn’t take long. He wants me to think that nothing bothers him.
Desperate to keep going, I press myself inside again, keeping it to just the head and letting him adjust.
His heat sinks through my skin, filtering up, and I close my eyes for a moment.
Then, I thrust, slowly taking myself deeper as I watch his body for a reaction. I grip his shoulder in one hand, planting my other on the bed at his side, nudging his knee wider with my own. In a minute, my shaft is buried inside of him, and I’m picking up the pace.
“Ah, fuck,” I moan. I know what it’s like to be him, and even though this feels amazing, I love it when he’s in control more. Feeling him on me, setting the pace, wanting it…
“Do you like this?” I whisper. “Do you like taking me?”
Does he like feeling how hard I am for him like I get to feel when he’s inside me?
I squeeze his flesh. “Say something.”
“I never liked you.”
And yet, his back is arched, little moans escaping with his breaths.