Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
But as I stroke my cock, all I can think about are her gorgeous features, her wide, excited eyes, the curve of her breasts, hips, and supple ass.
Evie: Dom? It’s not polite to leave a girl hanging.
Dom: I know what you’re doing.
I type, then delete.
Dom: I know this is a trick.
I type, then delete.
Dom: I know you’re going to try to escape.
I type… deleting the message again. Standing, I release a shuddering breath. I’ve never been a man who thinks with my cock.
Instead of replying, I throw on a pair of shorts and walk through the large house to the garage. I move my car back a few feet to make room for the trapdoor, knowing I should stop.
This. Is. Wrong.
Why can’t I get that through my head?
Walking down the stairs, my cock doesn’t wilt, not even for a second. The fantasy of Evie is too vibrant in my thoughts. The memory of her wetness makes me ache all over. I’m salivating at the thought of her.
She must’ve heard the trapdoor. Seated on the couch, she eagerly expects my arrival with her legs tucked up beneath her, her nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt. She’s unbraided her hair, letting it fall wildly around her shoulders.
Her eyebrows rise in a challenge.
I know what game you’re playing. I think about voicing, but that would destroy the illusion.
She stands, her breasts bouncing beneath the shirt, the movement obvious by her hard nipples. Her expression is the same as in the interview, sassiness laced with nerves. In this context, it makes me even harder.
I rush across the room and sink my hands greedily into her hips. I refuse to believe her gasping moan is forced. When I kiss her and she responds with passion, I know it’s real. Her tongue finds mine and we collapse onto the couch.
Kissing passionately, I drive my crotch against hers, my manhood pushing through my shorts. I can feel her sex through our clothes. She grinds against me, her hands moving over my back.
I glide my hand up her leg and slip my touch down towards her underwear, but then she pulls away.
“I want to make you feel good,” she moans.
My heart pounds hard in my chest, my lust making my manhood feel like it could explode, as I try to watch her carefully for any signs of escape. She could make a break for it at any moment.
She rubs me over my shorts, her eyes fixed on me, biting her lip like she did in the interview. “You feel so fucking horny,” she says. “So… hard.”
The hitch in her voice hints at her inexperience. Her cheeks are even more flushed than they were in the interview.
“Wait,” I groan. “Evie.”
She pouts. “What if I don’t want to wait?”
She keeps rubbing me, her hand moving faster, stroking the clear outline of my aching cock through my shorts. When she pulls my pants down and my cock springs up, her eyes get that wide, irresistible look.
Her shock isn’t fake. “You’re huge,” she moans. “Fuck, Dom.”
She wraps her hand around my naked cock, stroking from my pre-come-slick tip to my base, spreading the wetness all over my length. I almost roar as she strokes, owning this moment, owning me.
I thought I was in charge. I was wrong.
“Wuh…”
Wait, but it’s like I can’t produce the word. I let out a shuddering groan instead.
She moves her hand faster, spreading the precome with a slick sound.
“I want what you said in your text.” She breathes heavily. “But not here – not as your prisoner…”
There it is, a clear sign this is a trick.
“Let’s go to your room.” She leans down, then nervously kisses the base of my cock, sending a shockwave through my entire being. “Not here, baby. Somewhere I feel like your equal… somewhere I can moan and scream and not upset Meatball.” She kisses me again, stroking all the while. “Let’s go…”
Her cat whines, walking into the room. She lets go of my cock and turns to face him.
This is my only chance to break the spell. I stand and quickly pull up my pants, trembling with the effort. Part of me wants to ignore the voice of reason. To take her upstairs and let her suck my dick with her perfectly kissable lips, then slip into her soaked pussy, fuck her like she deserves, then let her try to escape.
She stands, facing me. “Why are you getting dressed? I want to see you again. Don’t make me beg.”
“Stop,” I growl. “I know what you’re doing. I’ve let it go too far already.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Trying to get upstairs. Trying to escape. I can’t blame you… but I won’t take advantage of you.”
She bites her lip again, approaches me, then presses down on my shorts. “What if I want you to take advantage? What if I need it?”