Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I moan.
I want to close my eyes, but I can’t tear my gaze away from our reflection. The sensation of his mouth, his thumb sliding over my clit, is almost hypnotic. Seeing his tongue work me over in the mirror is the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“Love your pussy,” he mumbles against my heated flesh. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sloane.” He kisses my clit before gently taking it between his lips. He sucks, then releases the swollen bud when I cry out in pleasure.
“Quiet, cupcake,” he warns, his hand coming to rest on my stomach. “Don’t want to wake the whole dorm up.”
“I hate that nickname,” I tell him, even as my hips lift, seeking the warmth of his mouth again.
“You love it,” RJ argues, then captures my clit again and gives a sweet, gentle suck.
The blood rushes from my head to throb between my legs. I’m a mess. Biting down on my bottom lip. Muscles shaking. Strung so tight I don’t know how long I can take his torturous teasing.
“I think about this every second of the day,” he mutters between licks.
“What, going down on me?” I ask between gasps and moans.
“Mmmm. Everything.” His tongue drags a hot swipe down my slit toward my opening, which is dripping for him. “Having you…” Lick. “Here…” Lick. “Spread out on my bed…” Lick. “Mine for the taking.” He punctuates that by bringing one finger into the mix, sliding it inside me with one deep thrust.
We both groan.
“So tight,” he growls. “I wanna be inside you so badly.”
“Please,” I beg, but despite his tormented admission, he doesn’t undo his jeans. He stays between my legs, his hungry mouth exploring and devouring and driving me mad with need.
“You gonna come?” He lifts his head, his finger still pushing in and out of me, his wet lips a scant inch from my clit. “I want you to come.”
I gaze at our reflection again, shivering at the sight of his finger moving inside me. I don’t miss the tiny smirk that curves his mouth before he leans in and flicks his tongue over my clit.
“Let me hear it, Sloane.” His tongue moves faster. A second finger slides into my pussy. “Let me fucking feel it.”
It’s too much. I’m overwhelmed by sensation. By the scent of his shampoo and the heat of his mouth and those two long fingers plunging and curling inside me. My breathing has gone so shallow I feel dizzy. All I can do is lie there and rock against his greedy lips until finally my entire body clenches in release.
RJ licks and kisses me through the orgasm, his fingers slowing, his tongue becoming featherlight as my shudders begin to abate.
Afterward, with his arm over my shoulder while we’re lying in bed, he can’t hide his smug smile.
“Don’t be too pleased with yourself.” I poke his ribs, and he flinches at the still-tender bruise. “The only reason I came so hard was because I was picturing what you’ll look like with shaved legs.”
RJ groans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “I’m still repressing that thought.”
“How’s it going?” I ask. “The swimming. Are you starting to enjoy it at all?”
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but…yes.” He sounds deeply ashamed, and I laugh in delight.
“Uh-oh. Someone likes wearing a Speedo,” I tease.
“I like the swimming part,” RJ protests. “I hate the Speedo part.”
“Surrre.”
“Hate it.”
“Surrrrrrrre.”
He pinches me in retaliation, then tightens his grip around me, holding me closer. We chat for a while as it gets late and the dorm grows quieter, whispering in the dark to make sure our voices don’t carry or give away my presence. Neither of us is anxious to say goodnight.
RJ skims his fingertips up and down my arm, idly tracing shapes against my skin. It’s nice like this. Talking to someone who really feels like they’re listening, that they care.
I wasn’t sure I was ready—I’d still been harboring doubts—but tonight has convinced me RJ wasn’t simply playing a character for me. Wasn’t creating a persona based on whatever inferred psychological profile he constructed from snooping around in my social media. Despite the super-shitty way he went about it, our connection was genuine. It still is. Being here with him feels so natural and right that my throat closes up, tight with emotion.
God, this guy is making me sappy. But I can’t help it. Since I agreed to give him another chance, he’s been so fucking sweet. I wake up every morning to a text waiting on my phone. Sometimes it’s a funny message, like yesterday’s: top of the morning to you, gorgeous. Today, it was a sexy one: Morning, cupcake. Had a dream I was inside you. Fuck, it was incredible.
And his good night texts are equally unpredictable. I never know what to expect with RJ, and I sort of love it. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s slowly chipping away at pieces of my armor and making me feel…fluffy.