Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Smoothing her hands down my sides, she pulls my shirt from my pants, sliding her fingers underneath and over my skin. Sensation washes over me and it’s difficult to place. Desire, yes. Lust, yes. But also a core-deep sense of this being right where I’m meant to be. It feels ten times more satisfying than good, but it’s also a little disconcerting because I can’t remember the last time I felt like that.
I push past it, dig my fingers into her hair and deepen our kiss. She fumbles at the button to my trousers and I push her hands away, pressing the small of her back towards me. She’s not going to undress me. Not yet.
“I want to feel you,” she says. Her hand rounds my backside and she looks up at me, pleading.
I want to enjoy this.
I step back and take a seat on the bed. “I want to watch you.”
I kick off my shoes, stretch back, and relax. She doesn’t move for a couple of moments, like she’s considering what to do next. She gives her signature half shrug before her fingers go to the buttons of her white shirt. “So, you’ve been watching me all night,” she says. “At what point did you think this was going to happen?”
“I think the bit when you said you’d have sex with me was probably a turning point.”
She lifts her gaze to mine and smiles. “Well, wasn’t that what you were asking me, in a roundabout way?”
“Maybe?”
“So I just cut to the chase.” She shrugs the shirt from her shoulders to reveal perfect, flawless skin.
“You certainly did.”
“Women must proposition you all the time,” she says as she peels off her jeans. She’s making no effort to tease me or seduce me. It wasn’t a question, so I don’t offer an answer. I figure we have limited time and I’d rather not miss an opportunity to watch her without talking.
I grin as she hops on one foot to remove her jeans.
“There’s no sexy way to take off a waitress uniform,” she informs me as she discards her pants on the chair behind her and stands in her underwear. She’s unselfconscious, but not in a naïve way. More that she knows who she is, and more importantly, who she isn’t. It’s compelling, like a movie you can’t tear your eyes from, or a piece of music you want to play over and over.
“Oh, I disagree. I’ve never seen a strip-tease quite so sexy.”
She closes her eyes in a long blink and gives a small shake of her head before stepping towards me and straddling me, a knee either side of my hips. “Well, if that’s the truth, I’m going to blow your mind tonight, so get ready.”
I laugh and sit up, bringing us face-to-face. I reach around and open her bra with a flick of my fingers. She lifts her arms and her breasts shift up, perfectly aligned for me to capture a nipple in my mouth. I work my tongue, flicking and swirling, grazing her with my teeth, burying myself in her scent of fresh flowers. Her fingers thread through my hair and she moves against me. Then I shift to the other breast, while my fingers pinch and pull at the nipple that’s been warmed by my mouth.
God, I love breasts. And I love how most women don’t know how sensitive they are. I mean, they know, but they don’t really know. Her hips begin to lift a little and she tries to coax my head away, but I won’t be moved.
We have all night. There’s no rush. She’s come into this room thinking she’s going to get a quick fuck and then forty-five minutes later she’s going to leave and go home and find her vibrator to finish herself off because I’m some poor schmuck who can’t make a woman come. But none of that’s going to happen.
“Vincent,” she says on a sigh. “I want to feel you.”
I respond by flipping her to her back, settling down beside her and continuing my exploration.
“Do. You. Have. A. Ahhh. Oh god. A. Nipple. Fetish?” She arches her back as I press my teeth around her.
I slide a palm down her stomach and into her panties, down, down, down, into her wet heat. It’s not me getting off on what my mouth’s doing.
Okay, it is me. I like being able to get a woman drenched when I haven’t touched her pussy. I like being able to get a woman so worked up she’s ready to do anything for me. Absolutely anything.
But I have nothing to prove, so without taking my mouth from her breast, I work my finger back and forward through her folds.
She twists her hips away from me, like she’s trying to escape.
“Vincent.”
I bring my thigh over hers to keep her in place and slide two fingers inside her, circling and pulling and pressing while I flick and bite and tongue.