Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I start with her shoulders, massaging the tension out. She may trust me, but she’s still nervous. He hurt her, and as strong as she is, she can’t shake what he did. I knead her back and work my way to her peach of an ass, massaging the globes, working my way into the crack, but not yet going there. I skirt down, applying some oil to her thighs and giving them attention.
When I get to her heels, as much as I love the idea of fucking her with them on, I remove each one so she’s comfortable, kissing the insteps of both of her feet.
“If you keep this up, you’re going to put me to sleep.” She sighs, clearly relaxed, just the way I want her.
“Then I’ll just have to wake you up.”
“We’ll s—” Her words are cut off when I spread her cheeks and push a single oiled-up finger into her tight-ringed hole. “Ohhh,” she half hisses, half groans.
“How does that feel, baby?” I ask, gently fingering her tight ass.
“It’s… different.”
I chuckle under my breath. “Get on your hands and knees.” She pops up immediately, jutting her ass into the air. Reaching under her, I find her clit and massage it while working her ass with my finger. I can tell when the two combined begin to feel good because she starts to rock back and forth, helping me get her off.
“Oh, Oh… Cam,” she groans. With a little more pressure on her clit, she explodes, her entire body shaking as she comes all over my fingers. I use the moment to add another finger to her ass, and she moans in pleasure.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Fuck my fingers.” I dribble a few drops of lube onto her ass, then add one more digit. Even though she’s already come, she’s turned the hell on, meeting my fingers thrust for thrust.
“It feels so good,” she breathes, rocking back and forth. “More, please. I need more.”
“So fucking polite. Begging me to fuck your ass.”
“Please,” she moans louder, taking my fingers deeper and harder. “Camden, please.”
I pull my fingers out, and she whimpers, making me bite back a laugh. If that asshole had treated her right, she would’ve given him the damn world. Instead, he chose to hurt her. His fuckup is most definitely my gain. Because of his horrible choices, I’ll get to spend the rest of my life loving and being with this woman. Something I never thought possible.
Grabbing the lube, I pour a generous amount on my shaft, then stroke it a few times, making sure to coat it nice and good.
“It might hurt a little,” I warn her, lining my dick up to her entrance. “If at any point you want me to stop, tell me, and I will.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice shaky.
My fingers pull one of her ass cheeks to the side, and slowly, so fucking slowly, I breach the rim of her hole, watching as it swallows my dick inch by inch.
“Layles, you okay?” I ask when I glance up and find her face in the pillow, her body trembling. “Layla?”
“I…I don’t—” The shakiness of her words has me pulling out and flipping her onto her back, not waiting for her to finish her sentence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LAYLA
I thought I could do this, and for a minute, I was. His fingers in me felt oddly good. The way they stroked my insides had me coming apart at the seams. But then I got too brave, asked for too much, and the second his dick pushed into me, the flashbacks hit me hard. I tried to close my eyes and get past them, but of course, Camden noticed. He notices everything. He’s so attuned to everything regarding me. My moods, my body, my emotions, and my expressions. He pays attention, real attention. It’s one of the things I love about him.
“I’m right here,” Camden says, parting my legs and hovering above me. “It’s you and me, baby.” His lips brush mine, sending a shiver up my spine. “We don’t need to do this,” he says softly. “I can make love to you just like this.”
I shake my head, not wanting to let David win. He doesn’t deserve to be in our honeymoon suite with my husband and me.
“Can we do it like this?” I ask. “I think it’s the position. I want to see you.”
Camden smiles gently. “Baby, we can do anything you want.”
His mouth captures my own, and we kiss passionately. He tastes like the champagne from our final toast before we said good night, and it makes my stomach do a flip-flop. I married Camden today, my best friend, and I want our marriage to be free of David, of my past. And the only way that can happen is for us to replace this final bad memory with a good one.