Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
The head pressed against my entrance, feeling impossibly hard and thick, guaranteeing the stretching he just spoke of. My hips rocked, tried to sink, but his hands were controlling me, his eyes holding mine captive for an excruciatingly long second before his hands grabbed my hips and shoved downward, making my body take him to the hilt with a surprised moan, a slight pinch, and a whole-body shiver.
"Fuck," I whimpered, body tensing slightly at the invasion, my hips pulling up slightly to ease the ache.
"Too much?" he asked, eyes concerned.
I took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly as I slid back down on him, taking him fully, feeling a pinch as he settled deeper than anyone before, but finding myself somehow impossibly turned on by that fact. "Perfect," I countered, hand planting at his shoulder for balance so I could lift up, feel him slide halfway out of me, before pressing back down to the hilt on a whimper.
"Fuck," he growled. "That's a good look," he told me, his hand going to frame the side of my jaw.
And this moment, with his cock deep inside me, with his eyes boring into mine, I somehow had never felt more exposed as I did right then. It should have been scary for someone as opposed to intimacy as I had always been, but there was a deep, unexplainable comfort in the moment, making my movements slower than usual, unhurried to get to the grand finale so I could kick him out. I wanted it to last. I wanted to be lost in the moment forever.
His hand went back to my hip, guiding my movements as they got more erratic when the pressure built inside, when I knew that no matter how much I wanted the moment to last all night, that my body was loving the feeling of his thick cock sliding inside me too much to allow that.
"Come, Lenny," Edison demanded, voice as strained as my body felt, hand still framing my face, keeping eye-contact where I would normally bury my face to create a disconnect. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock."
And that was all I really needed.
My hips sank back down, and the orgasm crested, slowly at first, but deep. One hard, unhurried pulsation that had my breath gasping inward, before the waves started crashing harder, faster, making his name cry out from between my lips, as I watched the look of primal need, but also some kind of reverent wonder, pass over his face as my walls contracted hard around him.
There was a horrific, utterly unexpected sting at the backs of my eyes as the last waves coursed through me. I could feel my lips parting, my eyes shocking open wider as the glisten started.
Either seeing it and understanding my need to hide, or maybe just too close to his own orgasm to care as much anymore, his hand released my jaw, and my face buried so I could hard-blink and slow-breathe through the utterly absurd sting of tears as his hips jerked upward into me, and Edison came with my name cursing out from between his lips.
His arms wrapped around me after, a confinement I never would have allowed normally, but I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me to fight it, to pull away, to put the distance between us that was smart seeing as this was just a casual fuck, and the last thing we needed to do was let the feel-good hormones let us think it was more than that.
It wasn't, damnit.
Not even if my stupid ass was fighting wholly ridiculous tears.
I was just overworked, under-slept, and bone-deep worried about the six-month anniversary coming up in less than a week. That was the only explanation to my reaction.
I didn't do feelings.
I damn sure never did intimacy and lovemaking and after-sex snuggling.
Generally, I went back to his place so I could peace out while he dealt with the condom. Fuck buddies were fuck buddies, and I didn't need to explain my behavior.
Why then did I have this strange feeling like I needed to come up with some excuse as to why he couldn't stay over?
And why the ever-loving hell was there a stupid pang in my chest even at the idea of him leaving?
Edison's hand drifted lazily down my back, sending another of those freaking shivers through my body.
"Sensitive," he murmured innocently enough, honestly enough seeing as I did tend to react strongly to the barest of touches from him.
But my confused mind shocked back at that, at thinking he maybe thought I was being sensitive.
Which, well, I totally was.
And that was not okay.
I couldn't handle that right now.
I had too much on my plate.
I had bills to pay.
I had a body to toughen up.
I had a sister to worry about.