Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
My taunting thoughts shut right up the second his lips touch my dick. There I go, letting out another groan. Doesn’t end there. The guy swallows me down inch by inch. Drags his tongue around my meat. Sucks me both hard and soft, unpredictable, mad.
I grip his head, probably too tight.
But it makes him suck me even harder.
Like he enjoys being handled.
Suddenly I’m taking control, guiding his head up and down on my dick with increasing power. This just went from a blow job to me fucking his face.
And the harder we go, the more he moans.
And the less I can hold back my own.
Someone’s teaching me a whole lot about what he’s into real fast without uttering a single word.
His hands slap onto my pecs while he keeps going to town on me. It’s so unexpected, I let out a grunt of surprise, then melt into his hands as they start feeling me up, kneading and squeezing my chest as I drive his head up and down.
This isn’t the Wyatt I first met. It’s the Wyatt I met last night in a room all by ourselves.
Something’s telling me this is the real Wyatt.
Someone that no one in Spruce ever lets out to play.
Including Wyatt himself.
This adorably dirty cock fiend whose appetite is apparently as insatiable as mine. Whose desires have gone neglected for who knows how long. And who’s chosen lucky-ass me as the lucky-ass recipient of those pent-up frustrations.
And I’d be lying if I said my own needs haven’t gone ignored.
And that Wyatt is doing a perfect fucking job of waking them all up with his mouth on my dick and his hands greedily fondling my chest like it’s prom night.
Use me, Wyatt.
Every inch of me.
Take all of me down your sexy throat if it’s doing it for you. Grab my chest and feel me up. Let me grip your head and drive you up and down my dick until you choke.
I want you to want me as bad as I want you.
If we’re going in, we’re going all the way in. I half-ass nothing. And I take as much as you—
He pinches my nipples.
Squeezes for dear life.
“Fuck me!” I howl out, caught by surprise as pain runs through me like he just pierced them—followed by a surprising and fucking undeserved rush of pleasure through my body. I sigh beneath him, his head still bobbing up and down without letting up at all.
I think he got the message I liked that.
Even if I’m still not sure I did.
So he does it again. “Fuuuck,” I roar out, almost fighting him off me, but he stays attached, gripping me so tight he just might take my dick with him if I bucked him off.
The next second, he’s off my dick and crawling back up my body. I’m still recovering from the surprise tittie twister when his lips cover mine, breathless, desperate for a kiss. All my emotions swing from lust back over to passion as I grip his hips and pull our bodies together, crushing his mouth.
“You liked that, huh?” he breathes against my lips.
I can’t answer.
Because I don’t know.
He’s got my head so fucking scrambled, he could convince me lavender trash bags turn me on.
I move my hands between us, undo his pants, and slide them down his thighs along with his underwear. Now I’ve got a bare cheek in each palm, playing with them as we make out. I guess it’s doing the trick, because his dick is grinding against me with every thrust of his mouth on mine.
Then he lifts his face from mine.
Everything comes to a stop. My hands. Our grinding. We’re looking at each other’s eyes right now as if something happened, but I don’t know what.
Then I realize he’s saying it with his eyes.
Yanking down his pants was the invite to the party.
He’s RSVPing.
I grip him under the thighs and lift him straight off the couch. His lips are locked right on mine as I carry him to the bedroom. Drop him back onto the bed. Crawl over him. Nightstand drawer. Pop open the lid. Squirt. Then bring my fingers down to his crack where they tease their way in so much easier than mere saliva did on a fancy rug in someone’s castle.
He’s already so ready for me, two fingers slide halfway in with no effort. I can’t help but crack a smirk at the sight of his dropped jaw and pretty little eyes flipping back.
“Is this okay?” he asks through a breath.
My fingers don’t stop. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“God yes,” he groans.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“N-No problem. None at all. Jesus, Lord …”
“Taking so many names in vain? And on a Sunday?” I click my tongue at him as my fingers twist deeper. “Have you no shame?”
“Mmm, none at all.”
I come close to his ear. “I wanna put all of me in you.”