Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
I slide my fingers down his abs, his six-, no, eight-pack. Gotta love an overachiever, I think as I watch the muscles flex and contract. “You are so nice.”
A growl.
“You are, aren’t you?” I whisper in his ear, the tips of my breasts barely brushing his chest.
“Come and sit on my face, and I’ll show you exactly how nice I am.”
A low chuckle stutters out of me. But I think he means it. Now, wouldn’t that be something . . .
I push up and put my hands to the back of the chair, my arms setting the girls to their best advantage. A sight he can’t fail to miss.
“Maybe you’re not so nice.” One hand in his hair now, I fist it, making him hiss. “Maybe you do deserve cruel,” I rasp as I drop into his lap and rock over him.
“Fuck.” His eyes slam closed as his body shudders.
Sensation heats and blooms, my skin hot and my pussy aching to be filled as I work over him again, loving how his attention turns inward, almost as though he’s concentrating.
“Wait.” Another swallow. “I think my brain just exploded.”
“Just your brain?”
His expression turns a touch sardonic. “Darlin’, you’re good. But you’ve no worries on that score.”
“Promise?”
His chuckle is so, so smutty that it makes my cheeks burn. I’m almost naked and dry humping him, but bashful at the thought of him coming in his pants? Ridiculous, I think as I put my lips to his neck again, swallowing the low rumble he makes as I press my teeth there.
“I don’t need your brains,” I whisper, working myself over him, loving how he throws back his head, eyes closing under the weight of this pleasure. “What I need from you is here.” The feel of him. I have never been so turned on and can hardly believe the things I’m saying.
“Darlin’, you want the whole package, believe me.”
“All of you?” I taunt. I bite my tongue to keep from asking, To get my money’s worth? It’s just a fantasy, I tell myself, ignoring the pang in my chest. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering how many times he’s heard that. How many times has he been belittled or made to feel cheap?
We have that in common, he and I. Different careers, same judgment.
“You want my mouth, my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.” His voice has a desperate, sandpapery quality to it. “Let me give them to you.”
How his words ache. How his body strains. How my core clenches as those images splash over the walls of my brain. His mouth on my breast. Midnight hair and his tongue buried between my legs. From the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair, I’m so ready for this.
“Let me taste you, Ryan. Let me give you a night you deserve.”
“You feel so good,” I whisper, not giving a damn for my breathy, porn-worthy words as I drop myself over him. Over his cock. “I’m so wet for this. So wet for you.”
“Show me.” This sounds less like a demand and more like a plea for clemency.
I fall forward, my nipples peaked and brushing his chest through my bra’s gauzy fabric. “How bad do you want that taste?” I whisper in his ear, closing my teeth over the fleshy lobe.
He hisses a curse, hips bucking, the heat of my pussy just out of reach. “So fucking much. Look at me—I’m desperate for you.”
And he is as I push up onto my knees, arching my back with intent, cupping my hand between my legs. Those lust-glazed eyes light up my pleasure center like the Fourth of July.
“Ryan, show me more.” His words sound despairing, like those of a man with an endless thirst. “Touch yourself, darlin’. Please.”
My insides pulse with longing as I slip my hand under the waistband of my panties, making a slow slide down. I make a soft noise as the pad of my finger reaches the wet ribbon of my flesh.
“Fuck, yeah. Yes.” His tongue swipes his lips, rendering them unbearably tempting. “Slip your fingers inside, beautiful.”
I close my eyes to his expression and the temptation of his voice.
“No, darlin’. Open your eyes. Watch me want you.”
And so I do. Our eyes connected, I touch myself, swirl and play, until I can’t stand it anymore. I fall forward, our kiss instantly hot and messy and frantic.
“Let me.” His fingers loop my wrist, his eyes bright as he brings them to his mouth, licking them clean, the sensations and the scene making my body buck. “Take off your bra,” he demands as he works those digits like his favorite sucker.
“Who’s in charge?” I whisper, dragging my finger down the ridges of his abs. “Who’s on top?”
“No doubt about it, darlin’. But I thought the aim was to torture me?”