Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
This is the last thing I should be doing, but thoughts of my woman are too powerful as she whimpers in the fantasy, shifting against me when I press down on her pussy through her shorts. The steaminess is so vivid, I can feel her wetness, her heat pushing against my palm as I rub quicker.
“You’re going to soak your shorts for me,” I growl in my mind. “Get your young pussy good and wet. Get ready to take every inch of me.”
I envision her staring up at me with wide eyes, part startled, part obsessed, as I move my hand faster.
Everything feels so real. I’m certain her lips are caressing my palm. My hand strokes up and down my cock. Fast. I never lose control like this. How could I? I’ve never seen my woman before.
“Show me those gorgeous thick tits,” I snap in the vivid waking dream, tearing down the front of her top.
She gasps as her large breasts spill free, and then I’m all over her. I push them together to highlight their curviness and then suck her nipples, summoning the taste of them, the texture, knowing no fantasy could ever come close to the actual feeling. She moans as I pull her shorts down.
Precome leaks from my bulging cock, my hand getting slick as I rub myself quicker, my length burning, my tip aching, and my world focusing entirely on her, my woman, the only person I’ll ever want. The woman I need.
“I need your hole.”
Suddenly, she’s on her back, staring up at me naked.
It pisses me off I have to invent what she looks like, that I don’t know every tiny detail of her nakedness, of her juicy nipples and her naked hips and her pussy. I want to know every single detail of her sweet, soaked sex, the shape of her lips, and the size of her clit.
I know her face, and it’s easy to imagine her mouth opening in pleasure as I grind my huge cock inside of her. I push deep, truly experiencing the tightness of her hole, pushing until she’s wrapped around my base. My hand makes slick noises against my cock.
If the mafia attacks now, I’m done for—no way to respond, since every shred of my attention is fixated on my woman.
Her breasts jiggle beautifully as I slide out of her, then hammer in again. My hand goes into overdrive on my shaft, my breath coming in savage breaths, my tip scorching as the fantasy gets more intense. She bounces up and down on my dick, pushing her tits together, moaning, and then…
Oh, hell.
She creams all over my cock, gushing waves of it. That’s too much for me to handle. The thought surges through me, and then seed surges up through my shaft, erupting from my length and spattering my stomach. I imagine it shooting inside of her, deep into her body where it will find her womb. It will find a home there, giving us a child, the start of our family.
Once I’m done, I sit up, walking awkwardly into the ensuite of the master bedroom and cleaning myself up.
That was a waste. My cock belongs in her hole, not my hand. My seed belongs in her womb, not spattered over my tense stomach.
I want to make that happen, make us happen, but it seems like she hates me. Or do I detect some lust?
Even if I acted on the compulsion burning within, Andrew would be furious, without a doubt. Too much uncertainty…
Except for one thing I am certain about… I’m done pretending Violet isn’t my woman. The fantasy has hammered it home. She belongs to me, and she always will. I can’t run from that.
CHAPTER SIX
Violet
“You can do it,” Luke says, clapping his hands as a child balances on a medicine ball, arms at their sides.
I can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl, but I don’t have to question the heat in my chest, the love expanding as a warm ball and filling every part of me, right to my toes and fingertips. I’m beaming from ear to ear, unable to believe I’m this happy.
“Mommy, Daddy, look… I did it!”
A knocking sound. The child falls.
I wake with a gasp, sitting upright, sunlight glowing through the closed curtains as I struggle to believe I fell asleep. Struggle to believe I let that happen after last night.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
Luke’s voice is way gruffer than the dream. It has a dark note in it.
“Uh, come in,” I say, wondering why I said that.
I should try to maintain my angry exterior, the F-you attitude I had last night. Even if I gave myself to the lust, there wouldn’t be a path forward. It’s not like I’d know how to get to that dream, the one that’s already fading. The child, the closeness…