Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
My hands are firm under her thighs as I set her down, the old wood creaking under her weight, a low groan that echoes my own fraying restraint. I’m close, too close, my pulse a wild drumbeat as I lean in, my lips finding her neck. Her skin’s fever-hot, pulsing under my mouth, and I kiss it slowly, deliberately, tasting salt and sweetness, feeling her shiver ripple through me like a current. She gasps. A frantic sound, and it’s a match to kindling, setting me ablaze.
I trail lower, my lips brushing the curve of her collarbone, then down to the swell of her breast, where the dress’s strap has loosened, teasing me with the bare skin underneath. My fingers graze it, pulling it down. My hand moves almost as if we are actors in a film that is being played at slow-motion speed. I bare her inch by inch.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rough, scraped raw. My eyes rise up to meet hers. They are dark, burning, mirroring the hunger clawing at me. “I couldn’t breathe tonight, watching you.”
I tear my gaze away from her eyes before the last inch of skin is exposed.
Her breasts spill free, full and round, pink buds glowing in the lamp’s soft haze. Ah! Of course. I should have known she would be perfect. My hands find the mounds, palms warm against her softness. My thumbs circling her nipples, and they harden under my touch. Her moan breaks the air, low and trembling. I feel her arch, offering more. It’s an invitation my mouth pounces on. I’m greedy, insatiable, my mouth drawing the warm, needy bud and sucking it hard. She moans restlessly and rubs herself against me. It’s not enough—her warmth, her taste, the way she trembles—it’s a drug, and I’m hooked. My breath is hot and ragged against her skin.
I pull back, just an inch, and watch her glistening nipple. It is taut, flushed, and swollen from my rough sucking. Yes, that is exactly how I want to see it. My chest tightens, desire a live wire twisting through me. I move to her other breast, my lips brushing the curve with my tongue, teasing, before I take her in, sucking and sucking, savoring her little cries of pain and pleasure.
She shudders, her hands tangling in my hair, tugging, urging me closer. Her cries spill louder now, a keening edge to them, each one a blade slicing my control, and I feel myself harden more painfully tight against my trousers, the ache sharp, almost unbearable. It’s a sweet torment, my body screaming for release, but I’m caught, unwilling to rush, wanting to drown in her sounds, her surrender.
“Lauren,” I murmur, my voice muffled against her.
My mouth works her relentlessly, alternating between soft pulls and merciless sucks, her nipple swelling further and becoming so sensitive and responsive she shivers with need, and I feel her pulse, wild, matching mine, but I can’t get close enough to sate the need clawing at me. I grip her thighs as her moans deepen, a low, throaty hum that vibrates through me, and I’m shaking too.
The table creaks under her shifting weight. My cock strains, the pressure agonizing, a pulse of pain that grounds me even as it drives me higher, every one of her gasps tightening the coil in my gut. I suck harder, my tongue flicking, teasing, and she cries out, her voice breaking, a sound so raw it nearly undoes me right there, my body taut, fighting to hold on.
I ease back, lips brushing her skin, leaving her swollen breasts. And my hands slide down her sides, fingers catching the bunched fabric of her dress and dragging it all the way down and off her legs. It whispers to the ground. And there she sits on an old wooden table in the middle of all that junk. Like a queen in a thong.
My lips trace the soft curve of her stomach, my stubble scraping her soft skin, and her warmth radiates and pulls me like gravity. My fingers find her thong, silkily soft under my touch. I hook it, tugging slowly, watching the fabric slide down her calves. There. Except for her high heels, she is completely bare. And heartbreakingly beautiful. Almost too exquisite to touch. She’s trembling. I look up, and her gaze locks on me. Her lips are parted, and her breath is quick. I take a step back.
“Open your legs wide,” I order, my voice low and thick.
She shakes her head, a small, desperate jerk, her fingers tightening, a plea.
“Show me your pussy. I want to see how wet you are,” I say softly.
Slowly, her legs open.
“Wider.”
She obeys, and her freshly shaven pussy opens up like a pink flower. I’m a man hypnotized. I can’t stop staring. As I watch her throbbing core in wonder, more honey collects on the glistening flesh and starts to run down her skin.