Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
He lays me down gently as his fingers hook into my flip-flops first, sliding them off and letting them drop to the floor with soft thuds. Next come my denim shorts, the button popping open under his thumb.
He peels them down my legs along with my panties in one smooth motion. My shirt follows, tugged up and over my head. His hands reach behind me to unclasp my bra, and then, I'm completely bare beneath him, chest rising and falling rapidly.
I really should feel self-conscious since I'm well aware I'm nowhere near as hot as the women who surround him. But right now, with the way he stares at me, raking his gaze up and down my body, it feels enough. I feel enough.
Heath straightens up. Without breaking eye contact, he kicks off his shoes and shoves his denim pants down strong thighs dusted with dark hair. The flannel shirt gets unbuttoned with impatient fingers and tossed aside. Finally, his boxers hit the floor.
And oh my good Lord. I've always thought he was probably gifted in the manhood department. But thinking it and seeing the real thing are two different things.
His cock springs free, thick and heavy, the head already glistening. I stare, unable to look away. He's huge. Long and veined, curving slightly upward, the sight of him making a fresh gush of wetness slick my inner thighs.
My pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for him already.
He hovers over me, one knee braced on the mattress between my spread legs, and kisses me slow and deep. His mouth moves down my throat, tongue tracing the valley between my breasts.
"You feel like sin, Harriet."
I don't have a response. My mind is nothing but filth.
Heath closes his lips around one nipple and sucks hard, and I arch off the bed. His hand finds my other breast, kneading the soft flesh, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger before pinching lightly.
The sharp sting melts into pleasure.
"O-oh G-god, Heath."
"Shh, Harriet."
He switches sides, sucking the neglected nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. My clit throbs. I'm panting now, trying so hard to stay quiet that my teeth sink into my lower lip.
His free hand slides down my stomach, over my hip, and finally between my legs. Two thick fingers stroke along my slit, spreading the slickness there, circling my swollen clit with just enough pressure to make my hips jerk.
He pushes one finger inside me, then two, curling them, and I almost bow off the bed. The wet sounds of his fingers working in and out of my pussy fill the small loft, obscene in the quiet night but only makes me even wetter.
I'm close already, so close I can taste it, when he suddenly pulls his fingers free. I whine at the loss, but the sound dies when he brings those same fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, eyes locked on mine the whole time.
Jesus. This feels like one of those dreams you have that is not even within the realm of possibility.
The sight of his tongue dragging over his knuckles is going into my core memory.
"Ready for me, Harriet?"
I've been ready for years, but I don't tell him that. "Y-yes."
Heath wedges the broad head of his cock at my entrance, rubbing it through my folds, coating himself in my wetness. Then he pushes in, stretching me open inch by inch until he's buried to the hilt, bottoming out on the first trhrust.
The fullness is overwhelming. I feel every ridge, every vein as my walls flutter around his thickness.
A whimper escapes me before I can stop it. His hand clamps over my mouth immediately, palm warm and firm.
"Gram's right below us. You wouldn't want any of them up here, catching you getting railed like this."
"Oh God, Heath."
The slowness of his first thrusts drives me insane. Each drag of his cock against my inner walls has my toes curling, but it's not enough. I need more. I wrap my legs around his waist again and dig my heels into his ass, urging him deeper, harder. His eyes widen in warning, but he doesn't stop.
Every filthy stroke has me seeing stars. He keeps the pace controlled, hips rolling in a way that grinds against my clit with each thrust. The bed doesn't bang against the wall, but the frame still creaks softly under us. I bite the inside of my cheek to stay silent, tasting copper, even if all I want to do is moan and whimper.
"Harriet? You already in bed up there?"
My dad. Oh my God. No, no, no, no.
I swallow the moan building in my throat. Heath freezes above me, cock buried deep, his hand still partly covering my mouth. His eyes meet mine, dark with lust and a hint of panic.
"Y-yes," I manage to call back, voice only slightly strained. "I'm in bed."