Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
I nod fervently. “I promise. I won’t move an inch.”
He caresses a hand down and teases between the lips of my sex, and then he circles my clit with his glistening fingertip. I arch so violently at the first spike of pleasure. He immediately pulls his hand away and waves his finger in my face. “Ah ah ah, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
I can smell my own scent on his hand, and even after all we’ve done together, I still feel my cheeks burn hot. But I immediately drop back down to the rug and lift my hands back over my head. I look him in the eye. “I won’t touch you. I give you my word.”
A small furrow appears between his eyebrows and he hesitates another second, but then he pulls off his suit jacket and his hands move back to his collar. He begins to deftly undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt.
I can’t help licking my lips. Finally, after all this time I’ll get to see what’s beneath the hyper-polished facade. Surely his muscles won’t actually be as big as I’ve imagined them, not in real life. Back in the beginning I hoped he was wearing some sort of padding underneath the suit so he’d appear larger than he actually was.
But as he slowly peels off his shirt, and then grabs the back of his undershirt and yanks it off over his head—holy shit.
The man is a Greek god.
He’s a statue made flesh.
How— Just how? How is this god-man a recluse who lives out in the middle of nowhere? Where are all the sycophants who belong on their knees at his feet? Yes, I suspect his face is injured somehow, he’s obviously endured some sort of terrible tragedy, but still—
“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper. And I want to break my promise so badly. I want to reach out and touch his huge, muscled chest. I want to press my hand over his heart. I want to kiss down his torso and— My eyes travel the line of hair from his belly button into his pants.
He’s watching my every reaction and his six-pack flexes in response to my shameless gaze. My calves flex and my toes point in anticipated pleasure.
“More,” I whisper, then swallow. When did my throat suddenly get so dry? “Please, I want to finally see what a man looks like. What you look like.”
Is it just my imagination or are his hands shaking the smallest bit as he drops them to the button of his bulging pants?
I bite down on my bottom lip as he unzips. I swear a zipper has never moved so slowly before in the history of all zippers. I gasp as he finally reveals himself.
He’s gigantic down there just like he is everywhere else. I swallow and look away before almost immediately glancing back.
“Look your fill,” he says in a low, masculine rumble. “Look, but remember, don’t touch.”
I nod rapidly and blink. The more I look, the more it seems to grow, even though I wouldn’t have thought that was possible. I’m rapt as he leans up and tugs his pants down the rest of the way and then kicks them off, along with his socks.
Okay, now the whole god look is complete. He looks as amazing and perfectly muscled as any statuary in the most world-class museums.
“You’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
I only notice his scowl when he snaps, “No more talking.”
I look back up at his face. There are a hundred questions on the tip of my tongue. Why is he like this? Why does he hide his face behind a mask? Doesn’t he understand that there’s more to life than looks? Yes, I certainly appreciate his beautiful body, but I’ve become fascinated by him in spite of his scary hulking size and the mask he hides himself behind. We’ve connected in ways I never knew were possible and I’ve never even seen his face. Doesn’t that tell him everything he needs to know?
“One last question?” I chance.
He glowers at me but I risk it. “Will you show me how you touch it?”
This question at least doesn’t seem to anger him, though. And I can’t help licking my lips again as his huge, powerful hand grasps the base of the large, veined shaft and strokes it roughly up and down.
“Doesn’t that hurt it?” I gasp.
He shakes his head. “So innocent. Didn’t you ever watch videos? Online? Or look at pictures at least?”
I suck in a quick breath as I continue to watch him stroking himself. His eyes are locked on me. His inspiration seems to come from watching my reaction to him.
“I always kept SafeSearch on,” I whisper breathlessly.
“Of course you did,” he murmurs. “My little virgin. But you like looking at my cock, don’t you. You can barely take your eyes off it.”