Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
With one arm banded around my waist and my back braced against the wall, he clamps his free hand over my mouth, then pounds into me on repeat.
Everything blurs as he drives me to the brink of madness for the second time while a trickle of voices filters down the dark, dingy hallway.
It is a gritty fuck cloaked with secrets and unasked questions, but I can’t get enough.
“More, Caleb. Harder.”
Pain blurs with pleasure when he doubles the spread of my hips so he can stuff his fat cock deeper inside me. He fucks me without constraint while my eyes remain locked on the end of the corridor, secretly hoping we get busted but praying it is after Caleb brings me to climax for the second time.
The fiery blaze burning from my center to the tips of my toes grows wild when he stretches me to the point of being painful. I won’t walk without a limp for the next week, and the knowledge has me encouraging even more ruthlessness from Caleb.
“More. Show me how fucking tied up in knots I had you this week. Fuck me like you’ve been dreaming about for the past seven days.”
Caleb’s grunt is the final push I need. While digging my nails into his shoulders and shuddering through an orgasm so furious my temples pound in rhythm to my achy clit, I scream into his large hand. It muffles most of the moans, but just in case, I drop my head onto his chest and breathe through the sensation lighting up every inch of me.
The chances of our hot embrace being busted doubles when the squeezes of my vagina set Caleb off. Violent shudder after violent shudder racks through me when hot cum bursts out of his cock, and he calls my name in a long, throaty groan.
As his cock pulses inside me, the speed and length of his thrusts not slowing despite the voices in the kitchen growing louder, a shocking revelation smacks into me.
We didn’t use a condom.
CHAPTER 9
CALEB
“You’re an absolute idiot! How could you do that? It’s your job to check, right?”
As my eyes bounce between Jess’s wide gaze, I set her back onto her feet as her wiggles demand, then grin as if the panic etched on her face is nowhere near as perverse when her legs almost buckle out from beneath her. “What am I meant to check?”
I peer over my shoulder to make sure the corridor is still empty. When I notice it is, my focus shifts back to Jess. I won’t lie. My chest swelled with smugness. Even with our exchange not granting time for anything spectacular, she looks thoroughly fucked, and her kiss-swollen lips and ruffled hair have me dying for a second round.
“The corridor is still empty.” Although it may not be if the vein in her neck doesn’t quit throbbing. It is loud enough to overtake the pounding of my heart.
“It isn’t being busted that has me petrified.” Jess smacks me on the chest two times before thrusting her hand at my crotch. My still exposed, bare crotch.
Well, it isn’t exactly bare.
It is coated with our arousals—only our arousals.
Holy fucking shit, we didn’t use a condom.
While cursing my stupidity to hell, I yank up my pants like I should have ten minutes ago when it dawned on me that my cock wasn’t sheathed, then glance up and down the corridor, praying for some after-thought protection to magically pop up.
When that doesn’t occur, I blubber out. “It’s okay. I… ah… I’ll be right back.”
With my mind on the fritz, I dart to the left then pivot back to the right before making a beeline for the bathroom Jess pointed out earlier. Toilet paper isn’t the solution, but it will get Jess cleaned up enough for us to find something more adept to handle a situation like this.
I’m not an expert on after-thought products because usually my cock doesn’t get within sniffing distance of a woman without protection. I wrap it, or I don’t tap it. Those are the rules.
Bile scalds the back of my throat when I enter the only stall in the bathroom. Wondering if I’ve just knocked up a woman I only met a week ago isn’t the cause of the scald. It is my phobia of public restrooms. I don’t care if I’m traveling five hours on a plane or driving in a hire truck for five days across the country, I hold until I’m home or pee on the tire of my ride.
Public restrooms freak me the fuck out, which is odd when you realize the bathroom that started my phobia was in a place of worship.
Just like I do her snoring, Octavia gives me hell for my bodily functions. She has no clue about my phobia because I’ve never shared it with her. I’d rather she think I am rank than learn I’m no better than the coward she went against when she was only ten.