Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
She’s still coming when I flip her to her stomach, lift her ass up, and drive into her.
She groans deep in her throat and another contraction hits her, tightening her pussy walls around every hard inch. I pump her hard and fast, unable to keep a lid on my groans. I stroke a hand down her spine. Cup her ass. Her tits. Bite her neck. Grab her by the hair.
The smell of her shampoo is in my nose. Her hip bone is in my hand. Her pussy grips me. Pretty soon I’m rocketing to the edge. Flying past it. I press her down on the bed and bury myself to the hilt, groaning as my release takes over me. I start jetting off, so full that I can’t stop my dick form jerking, the waves from crashing.
She likes it. Likes me holding her pussy in my palm and caressing. Likes me pinching her clit. I set her off a second time. Set her off so hard she buries her moans into my pillow, shaking beneath me for another five… ten… fifteen seconds.
“Oh my God,” she groans as she flips around.
We’re both breathing hard and coated with sweat as I sit back and try to reassemble what’s left of my brain.
She snuggles to my chest, and I ease my arm out from beneath her. I dread seeing her look up at me with stars in her eyes. I’m still too fucking drugged. It takes effort to step away and head to the bathroom to clean up.
I splash my face with water and meet my gaze in the reflection.
You fucking happy with yourself, Ford?
I brace my arms on the sink and exhale, then shove back and head to the room—not to the bed. No. To the desk. Where the majority of my papers are.
AFTER THE O
Sara
I need to leave, but I’m lingering, dressing at a tortoise pace. I slowly ease my panties back up my legs and fix my hair using the mirror above the entry table.
He’s scanning my ass, hungrily, as if I didn’t just give him a very big O. I’d never felt a man come for so long. He was filled to the brim. Yum.
“Your name?” I ask as I turn to face him. He stands bare-chested in slacks behind the desk. His gaze alternates from me, to the papers on the desk, back to me.
“I think its best that we leave it like this. I don’t do…” He motions between us. “I don’t do this.”
“Sex?”
“Clearly, I do that.” He smiles briefly. It’s a rather regretful smile, and it doesn’t last more than a second. But that second is all it takes to cause my last breath of air to get trapped in my throat.
I swallow. He means a relationship. Do I look desperate to him?
As casually as I can, I smile back at him, still not breathing quite right. “Well then, goodbye, stranger,” I say, starting for the door.
“Sara.” His voice stops me, and when our eyes meet again, there’s something dark and intense in his gaze. “I enjoyed you. And that hot little body of yours. Very much.”
“My pleasure, sir. Please consider staying at the Four Seasons on your next visit,” I say, trying to make light of the situation as I step out. I board the elevator, sigh, and lean my head back against the wood panel behind me, swooning inside.
Have I ever been bitten this much?
Have I ever been fucked this hard?
I thought my teeth would break, and I fucking loved it. I wanted to sink in my nails and drag them down every inch of his glorious, taut, tanned skin. The way he looked into my eyes when he ate me up, I get chills remembering. And when he had me on all fours, I wanted to scream from the pleasure of the wild, hungry way he drove into me. He tangled and pulled my hair. Why was that so hot?
I have never felt so full, or seen such a glorious dick in my whole life. My knees wobble thinking about it.
Aren’t you glad you shared that cab, Sara? Went upstairs? Let him get you off twice and get himself off on you?
Yes, yes, yes to it all.
I walk into my apartment an hour later, listening to the noises of my next-door neighbors playing video games. “Shut up!” I bang on our shared bedroom wall, sigh, and slip into bed with my laptop, checking the advertisements for anything Broadway related. There is…
Nothing.
I’m stuck as a concierge for now. I set aside the laptop when my neighbors start screaming at their video game again, and I groan and cover my head with my pillow, deciding noise-canceling earphones will be the first thing I buy when I have extra money. I keep telling myself this, but I always manage to spot a nice pair of shoes I want instead.