Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
No, I need to.
I was right to stand my ground and demand more from him, but I can’t pretend I’m not dying to feel his body on top of mine, between my legs. That I’m not aching for more kisses, more strokes of his hands on my thighs, his deep drawl in my ear.
Sitting up on the mattress, I pad as quietly as possible to the door and unlock it. Then I strip off my tank top, leaving me naked, save a pair of black panties. I lie back down in bed, on my stomach this time, and position myself to look tempting. I bend my left leg, separating it from my right. I tilt my hips. I tug my panties into more of a thong shape, expose the roundness of my cheeks. And for some reason, all of this work I’m doing to appear tempting to Blaste turns me on and I find myself pressing my hips down against the mattress, rocking my lower body, letting out gusts of breath into my pillow.
I’ve never really felt sexy like this. I wasn’t one of the desirable or popular girls at school. After the Incident during freshman year, I kept my head down, stayed hidden in oversized sweatshirts and behind books. Boys didn’t talk to me, unless they needed to ask me a homework question or to copy my notes. Or to say something cruel and untrue.
Blaste’s attraction to me is genuine. Mine is the same for him.
That makes saying yes right.
Until I hear Blaste set down my phone on the coffee table and stand up, his footsteps creaking the floorboards on his way toward the bedroom, it doesn’t occur to me that I don’t know how to please a man. And that maybe I could have benefitted from a Siri session myself.
“Whoops,” I whisper into my pillow.
The doorknob turns. Muted light spreads over the bed and I squeeze my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I’m able to keep my breathing even right up until the moment he groans and curses—and I hear his towel hit the floor. That’s when my breathing turns erratic, my heart bouncing around in my ribcage, fingers digging into the fitted sheet.
“I see you’re awake, sugar. And I know you unlocked this door for a reason.”
The end of the mattress dips, the springs protesting his weight as he crawls over me slowly. Having my eyes closed while his warm breath travels up my spine is almost sensory overload and that’s before his open lips begin tracing the slope of my shoulders, his lap pressing down on the rounded hill of my bottom, grinding on me just enough to be not enough.
“All right, Shiloh,” he says thickly against my ear. “Thank you for making me do that. I don’t think it occurred to me…well, I guess I wasn’t taught right. About what you need. Now that I know, I would rather die than not give it to you. I’m going to take real good care of your pussy now, sugar, you can trust me on that.” He closes his teeth around my ear and bites down, dropping his lap fully against my backside. Gravity pushes all his weight down on top of me, forcing a gasp from my mouth, causing my eyes to fly open. “But let’s get one thing straight, all right? I’m a man. I’m a provider, a protector and oftentimes an animal. Sometimes I’m going to come home after a hard day’s work and I’m going to rail you on the front porch like a little slut. Then I’m going to want dinner. I’ll lick your pussy and tell you you’re fucking beautiful, because God knows you are. Hell, I’ll sit you on my lap and spoon feed you supper if you’re too tired from taking my cock to lift your arms, but dammit, you’re going to meet me halfway.” He slides a hand beneath me, down the front of my panties and he grips my sex in a calloused hand, making me cry out. “I don’t know what kind of whipped-ass mama’s boys you’ve got living in this century, but I ain’t one of them. I’m hard. I’m traditional. But you’re going to be so safe and satisfied with me, you won’t care. Do we have an understanding?”
Before I can answer, he slides his middle finger inside of me, pushing it deep, so deep, and I expect it to hurt, but it doesn’t. Maybe because I’m so wet? And my voice catches on a whimper when he adds his ring finger, pumping in and out once, twice, his thickness growing between the split of my bottom.
“I said…” He presses those digits in deep, until I’m trembling from the incredible pressure. “Do we have an understanding, Shiloh?”
“Yes,” I cry out.
Because nothing I’ve read or been told matters in this moment. It’s the basest, most elemental part of myself responding. I want to be an object of this man’s lust. I want to be the one who feeds him, physically, emotionally. In all ways. It’s my job. Mine. And I need to start now. I need to feel him use me and treat me like his female and nothing more. It is what it is. I’m not going to give up the ground I’ve gained, but I’m going to lose some as well in order to fulfill some part of me I didn’t know existed. To fulfill him, at the same time.