Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
He came after me, his dick still hard despite his ferocity. He grabbed me by the arm and forced me to turn around.
“I said no—”
He cupped my face and brought his lips to mine. He kissed me, but not aggressively like I expected. It was soft, purposeful, and so slow, it seemed like he was a different man. His fingers moved into my hair, and he fisted it gently, cradling my head rather than yanking on it.
The kiss was so nice I forgot about my stampede. It was soft, the way a woman always wanted to be kissed by a lover. I melted instantly at his touch, forgetting the cruel way he’d just bossed me around a second ago.
His other arm hooked around my waist, and he pulled me tight against his body, letting me feel his dick right against my stomach. He squeezed me as he continued the kiss, giving me his tongue and his warm breaths.
My hands touched his chest for the first time, and I felt how strong he was. Like he was a solid wall, I felt his hardness, felt his power. My mouth kept moving with his as I sensed the chemistry he mentioned before, the passion between two people innately attracted to one another. When words flew out of his mouth, he was unbearable. But when there was silence, he really was beautiful.
He slowly guided me back to the bed, his kiss never stopping as he pressed the backs of my knees against the mattress. He ended the kiss and slowly guided me into a sitting position, back to where I’d been just a second before. One hand grabbed his length, while the other cupped my face. “Open, sweetheart.”
Now that his kiss had sedated my rage, I opened my mouth and flattened my tongue.
He slowly guided himself inside and moaned when he felt my wet warmth. His hand moved to the back of my head to support me as he started to thrust. He didn’t even give me an opportunity to give him a blow job. He just fucked my mouth like he said he would, slamming deep inside me until I could barely breathe.
He stared at me with a focused look on his face, his eyes concentrating and his jaw clenched tight. He shoved his cock as deep as he could go, hitting the back of my throat hard with every thrust. Most of his length couldn’t even fit, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
I gripped his thighs and tried to lean back so I wouldn’t have to take so much of his length, but his hand forced me into position.
He turned rough again, treating my throat like an experienced pussy.
That was when I pulled my mouth away.
He didn’t try to do it again. “On the bed.”
I scooted back until my head hit the pillow. My mouth was full of saliva now, and his taste was still on my tongue.
He moved over me and yanked my thong off my body. He didn’t bother with the top before he positioned himself between my legs and prepared to fuck me.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t what I envisioned my first time to be.
But I just had to lie there for thirty minutes until he was done.
That was nothing.
I could do that.
But when he pressed his fat head against my entrance, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t live with this memory. I would just have to find three roommates and live in a shithole to survive. It was better than giving up like this. “No…get off me.”
He stayed still, like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said.
“I said, get off me.”
He stayed put, and for a second, it seemed like he might do it anyway. But then he rolled off me.
I left my thong on the ground and moved to the dining room to fetch my dress. I pulled it over my body quickly, slipped on my heels, and then grabbed my purse. I was ashamed of myself for coming here at all, for letting him fuck my throat like it was a toy.
“Monroe—”
“I know fairy tales don’t exist.” I turned around to face him. “But I don’t want this to be my first time. I don’t want this memory. Maybe sex is meaningless, but I don’t want my first time to be meaningless. I need that money, but I need my self-respect more. I’m sorry for wasting your time—but I just can’t do it.” I walked out and left the check behind. When I got to the door, I expected him to try to talk me out of it. But he didn’t. He let me go. I shut the door behind me, and when I got to the elevator, I finally released the breath I was holding.
The elevator took me to the lobby—took me to freedom.