Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
My heart beats faster even though it’s just one kiss. I pull away before he can escalate it. Kissing him on the sidewalk outside a restaurant was public and felt much safer. Kissing him in the privacy of his car doesn’t feel safe at all.
Memories of the smooth leather against my bare thighs flits back, but I push it away.
Needing a safe distraction, I lean forward and ease my feet halfway out of my heels for a moment so I can let them breathe. They’re aching from all the walking I did in them tonight.
“Do your feet hurt?” Calvin asks, obviously noticing what I’m doing.
I nod, flexing my foot. “The shoes are beautiful and I love them, but heels aren’t known for being the most comfortable walking shoes in the world. If you ever feel like bringing my worn, comfy shoes from my apartment, I’d be quite grateful.”
“We can swing by your apartment tonight if you want to.”
“Really?”
He smiles. “Why not? You’ve been such a good girl. You deserve a reward.”
I roll my eyes at the notion of that being a reward, but I don’t say anything as he tells Hollis there’s a change of plans, to swing by my place, too.
Since we’re going to my place, I’m trying to remember all the things I wanted to pick up. My yoga mat, Marie’s wand, my shoes…
Calvin’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“Here.” He pats his lap. “Give them to me.”
“My heels?” I ask, confused.
“Your feet.”
I just stare at him for a moment, not comprehending his request.
Why does he want my feet?
I don’t know, but I’m being Miss Agreeable tonight, so I slide my feet the rest of the way out of my heels and tentatively lift them as I turn on the seat. Calvin takes my legs in a gentle but firm grip and drapes them across his lap.
I’m following what he’s doing, but I’m still confused. I’m confused as he slides his palm up the inside of my calf and rubs, confused when he starts massaging my feet, even more confused when he does all this without first removing my pantyhose, which seems necessary if he planned to turn this sexual.
Once the confusion ebbs and I accept that he really is giving me a foot massage in the back of his limousine, I start to relax. I feel tingles when he lightens his touch and just skims my skin with his fingertips, relief when he puts some muscle into it and eases all the tension and aches from my body.
That part doesn’t seem to take very long, but I’m still enjoying his hands on my body, and he must be too, because he keeps rubbing even after he has alleviated my discomfort.
His touches are predominantly light now. My eyes drift closed as I enjoy the sensations, but I can feel him watching me. Paying attention to everything—my breathing, the noises I make.
Sitting up with my legs across his lap felt awkward, so at some point during the massage, I reclined on the seat. My whole body feels more relaxed. The languidness doesn’t abandon me when I feel the fabric of my sheath dress being pushed up, or the thin barrier of my pantyhose dragged down.
My pussy pulses when Calvin moves to his knees on the seat and pushes my thighs open. All that’s covering me is that little scrap of mesh and string. His palms skim my inner thighs, then he hooks his fingers in the strings and drags those off, too.
I’m naked from the waist down. It’s nighttime, but the city lights provide plenty of light so he can look down at me and see everything.
I expect him to fuck me now. I don’t expect him to lean down and kiss his way up the insides of my thighs. I don’t expect him to lift my ass off the seat and drape my legs over his shoulders so he can bury his face between my thighs and devour my pussy, either, but that’s what happens.
His mouth doles out pleasure tonight because I don’t fight it. I twist and writhe and cry out as he drags his tongue over my clit again and again, but it’s not because I want him to stop.
Rapture is close and I want it, bad.
That’s when he pulls out.
Makes me beg.
Undoes his pants and pulls out his cock.
“Beg for it,” he commands.
And I do. Oh, I do. I want it. Need it. There’s an aching void inside my body and I need him to fill it. I’d lock my heels around his ass and pull him into me if he were close enough.
He grabs my arms and pins them over my head. Shoves his cock into me and slams me back against the seat.
He fucks me roughly, but he teases my clit while he does.