Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Please tell me you plan on using those condoms.” Worth panted, face turned to the side, eyes covered by the blindfold but mouth slack and glossy.
“Don’t make me add a gag for your bossy mouth.” I licked a broad stripe right up the center of his crack.
“I’ll be good.” He made a show of clamping his lips shut, parting them only long enough to add a demure, “Sir.”
Since he was so determined to be good, I slicked my fingers for the sort of play I’d been doing in the shower. But without the shower, I could taste the lube, and I quickly abandoned rimming in favor of working him open with my fingers.
His greedy noises and little grunts made it clear he wanted more right this minute and didn’t have my patience for prep, but this was my first time, and I was determined to enjoy it. Plus, watching him stretch and take my fingers was fascinating. He pushed up to meet my fingers, spine undulating, body quivering.
“Please. Please. Please,” he begged, and power rushed through me like a narcotic. I was high on Worth, and I never wanted to come down.
“Please, what?”
“Please, Sir.” He gasped as I pressed my fingers against his prostate, coaxing more moans from him. “Please fu—make love to me.”
“That’s more like it.” I beamed even though he couldn’t see my smile. I loved that he’d corrected his word choice. Making love. That’s what this was. Fucking was all well and good and fine in books and porn and for others who sought that, but I wanted a more immersive, emotionally charged experience. I was remarkably talented at giving myself orgasms, but I couldn’t make love alone.
Making love to me implied the presence of another, one who inspired deep feelings and affection. Worth. He’d always personified sex for me, but also this, having someone to care about and pleasure. The more he enjoyed my attentions, writhing against the mattress, riding my fingers, groaning with each deep thrust, the more I trusted my instincts, let go, and enjoyed myself.
This might be new to me, but clearly, I was doing something right as a steady stream of curses and pleas spilled out of Worth’s mouth.
“Please. Come on, Sam—Sir. Need it.”
“Be. Patient.” Withdrawing my fingers, I gave him one last nip on the ass. I’d suggested the blindfold to heighten Worth’s sense of submission, but I was also glad he couldn’t see me take a second to read the instructions on the condom box. I accidentally ripped the first one, but the second was good to go. After adding more lube, I moved behind him.
Worth was still lying on his stomach, blindfolded face pressed into the mattress, and he helpfully drew his knees up under his torso, perfectly presenting his ass. The decadent display, the way he was slick and open, was enough to make my hands tremble.
Wow. We’re really doing this. I swallowed hard, suppressing a nervous giggle. I shook my hands and wiped them on one of the towels, trying to release any lingering nerves. Moving cautiously, I lined up my dick, steadying it with my hand. I thrust forward, but it felt awkward, like something wasn’t working.
“Harder,” Worth demanded. “Please. Sir. Push it all the way in.”
“I decide,” I reminded him, but in truth, I was glad for the encouragement. I thrust again, this time pushing past the initial resistance as Worth groaned and arched his back to meet me. He dropped his shoulders as if attempting a yoga pose, and my next thrust was far more fluid.
And deep.
So deep.
Oh God. Thank you. Thank you. It wasn’t the worst possible moment for prayer. I had lived thirty-five years waiting for this. That I’d arrived at the perfect intersection of pleasure and power was worth celebrating. Pun intended.
I had to suppress another near-giggle.
“Really, really glad for the shower sex,” I gasped. Without that pressure valve relief, I undoubtedly would have blown by the third exquisite thrust. Worth was a slick, welcoming, tight heat, and I couldn’t get over how toe-curling good each new sensation was. The rasp of his leg hair against mine. The curve of his ass so perfectly fitting against me. The sound of our mingled breathing. The smoothness of his torso under my hand. The way his ass griped me on each upstroke, almost like it wanted me to stay. I wanted that too. Wanted to be inside Worth forever.
“More. Please. More.” Worth met my every thrust. He kept arching like he was searching for something. I tried pushing deeper, but that didn’t quite seem to be it. Maybe a different angle?
Wait. Angle. That was it. I’d been so lost to my own pleasure and the novel sensations that I’d forgotten everything I knew about prostates and other erogenous zones. I shifted my weight and adjusted my grip on his hips before deliberately aiming for that spot inside that had made him curse and come earlier.