Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
“Stop…” The word comes out hushed, nearly inaudible, and I’m not sure if Nikolai heard it.
A small part of me is thankful he didn’t, because he wedges his knees between mine and slides the length of his bulging erection against my cock.
A delicious tingle spreads up my spine and I puff out a long exhale.
“Mmm. You got so hard by just kissing.” He swipes his tongue on my mouth over and over as if he’s trying to erase something. “Your dick must be huge. I can feel it through your pants, all erect and begging for attention.”
He rubs himself against me some more, until I feel like I’ll burst, my head and body at complete odds with each other.
I tighten my hold on his nape and tug on his hair, my voice hoarse. “Don’t…stop…”
“Is that don’t stop or don’t and stop?” He falls into a rhythm, dry humping my cock with his until my painful erection strains against my trousers.
I must release a noise, because Nikolai chuckles against my lips. “I’ll take that as the former. Mmm. You feel so good, baby. So fucking perfect.”
His words swim in the pleasure haze surrounding my head and stab me in the very marrow of my bones.
“Do you feel how hard I am for you?” Kiss. “How ravenous I turn when it comes to you?” Kiss. “I’ll devour you fucking whole, my beautiful lotus flower.” Kiss. “I’ll make you forget about anyone who came before me, namely fucking Clara.”
His hand falls from my back, slides down my abs, over my stomach, and to the waist of my trousers. I drop my hand that was squashed between our chests and slap it on his, then frantically shake my head.
Silently.
My eyes imploring his glazed-over ones. This is the first time anyone has looked at me like this. As if they’re possessed with the idea of me.
And it’s fucking terrifying.
“Don’t make me do this,” I whisper when he doesn’t make a move to remove his hand.
“Too late.”
“I’m…drunk.” My chest rises and falls so hard, it grazes his with every movement, every breath, and I’m intoxicated, completely out of my damn mind.
“Then blame it on me, baby.” He pushes my hand away, and this time, I let it fall to my side and don’t attempt to stop him again as he undoes my belt and pulls down my zipper.
My insides are cracking and smashing, and I don’t recognize my lustful thoughts. I don’t recognize this version of me.
Because I find myself watching his movement, anticipation coiling in me like a snake as he wraps a tattooed hand around my rock-hard cock. I don’t stop him when flicks his thumb on the side. I don’t stop him when he gives me a firm, delicious jerk.
I just watch.
In complete, utter fascination.
He pulls out my painfully hard cock and I hiss at the sensation of his rough hand against the sensitive skin.
“Fuck. You do have a huge dick and it’s weeping for me. Mmm. Uncut. Fucking perfect.” He flashes me a charming grin as he strokes me from the base to the foreskin and presses his thumb at the tip.
I think I’ll make a massive joke out of myself and come right then and there, drowning in his gaze and the hair that’s framing his sharp face.
Is it supposed to feel this fucking good?
“Why, hello, Straight Brandon’s dick. You look pretty gay to me.” He strokes again, harsher this time, eliciting a shudder from me.
Somewhere in my mind, I know that I should stop him. I need to stop him.
But I don’t want to.
I have no will whatsoever.
None of my bodily functions are in tune with the logical part of my brain. Not when he’s jerking me off with a level of control that leaves me panting.
My ears ring and my vision blurs, but he remains in focus right in the middle, his hard strokes grounding me to the moment.
To him.
Tingles creep up my spine and all my blood rushes to where he’s touching me.
“Get my cock out,” he orders in a low, growly voice.
My heavy lids lift for a fraction of a second and I stare at him, dumbfounded.
What was he saying again?
“Now,” he says, firmer this time, and I don’t know what’s come over me.
There’s something about the way he orders me around that works me into an inexplicable frenzy.
I grab onto his jeans, fingers unsteady and completely awkward as I undo his button and then slide down his zipper over his enormous erection.
Every now and then, I have to stop and suppress a groan when he jerks me faster with skin-tingling control.
My hand is definitely less sure when I reach into his boxer briefs and then pause, my mind going blank.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? I don’t want to make an awkward move.
“Wrap your hand around my cock and pull it out, baby.” His voice is deep but authoritarian and I find myself doing just that.