Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Laying my forehead against the glass and watching the world drift by, I let my mind dance to impossible scenarios. I image Braden snarling as I adjusted the front of his jacket, grabbing me by the hips and throwing me onto a pile of clothes. The bare brushing of my hands against his body was electric, tingles dancing up and down my arms.
I imagine him grabbing my hand and pressing it against the front of his pants.
“Rub my cock. Now.”
I have no choice but to do what he says. Taking out his member and tearing off my trousers, driving up inside of me before nerves have a chance to make me scream stop.
In the fantasy, I let go of any insecurity and I bounce up and down in motion with him, tearing my fingernails down his movie star back.
Then it all warps and I see him sitting at a fireside, children gathered around him. Flames flickering in his wolfish eyes when he turns to me, the room warm, the kind of warm you get when it’s cold outside. Maybe we’re on some snowy getaway in my fantasy, Braden and my babies, our family.
It’s an unlikely future. And maybe that’s the biggest understatement of the century.
It’s a future that is simply never going to happen.
But that doesn’t stop my mind from swimming with countless vignettes as I walk from the bus stop to the apartment block. It sits far outside of town, arranged for me by the youth services at the orphanage. The first few months have been paid until I start making some money, either through the costume-designer job or something more long term.
I’ll have to work my ass off and try and prove myself capable of further work.
As I climb the metal staircase, I imagine how Braden’s hard chest would feel pressed against me, flattening my pert and excited nipples. My clit throbs and I rush through the door, slamming it behind me, my hands trembling as I turn the lock and pad across the room.
Throwing myself down on the bed, I slide my hand down my pants, pressing my fingers against my clit.
Oh, oh, oh.
Braden tears my shirt off, rips it like the savage he is, causing the buttons to pop and fly through the air. He rips my bra from my body next and then leans down and sucks my nipples, sucks them hard and possessively, sucks them so I have no choice but to sink into the pleasure.
“You better be getting wet for me baby girl,” he snarls, staring up at me.
I turn to my wall, but then I remember the poster isn’t there. I didn’t put it up when I moved into the apartment. It felt childish.
So instead I close my eyes and return to the fantasy.
I mount him, in my mind, climb atop him like the most confident woman in the universe. He gasps as I sit down on his cock, driving down with my hips and taking his every inch inside of me.
Rubbing my clit faster and harder, I feel the orgasm approaching, a hot sharpness shooting through me. I imagine it’s Braden’s cock, pumping up inside of me, as I rub my clit so fast I can’t focus on anything else.
“Ride me, ride me hard,” he growls in my mind, as his hands sink into my ass and he pushes me down on his cock. “Bounce on this dick. Fucking serve this dick. Come for me, Bria. Come for me now.”
I whimper, biting down, the pressure releasing.
It’s like a thousand starry flurries are moving through me, touching every part of me.
“Braden, Braden.”
I moan his name into the air, shivering. It’s so silly, calling his name into the emptiness like this.
But it helps me to imagine he’s here with me, his massive cock grinding up into my tight hole, as I can take him, all of him.
In the make-believe, I don’t have to doubt myself.
We finish in my mind, my hands clawing down his back, as I rub my clit in real life. Faster and fiercer, I rub, until there’s nothing left for me to give.
I fall back with a gasp, letting my head rest on the sheets, and stare up at the ceiling. My eyes roam over the crack that goes from the corner up toward the middle, a jagged bolt through the material. It makes me think about how far reality is away from fantasy.
I wish I could freaking close my eyes and open them and, poof, I’m there with Braden Braxten. But he’d never want me. I can’t let myself devolve into those girlish impossibilities again.
It’s time to grow up, to face the facts.
I’m not the sort of woman he’d want. And anyway, he was a jerk to me. I don’t give a damn about him.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, a voice hisses in my mind.