Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Her being happy makes me happy.
It's 1:00 a.m. and I'm in bed, reading again. I'm wearing my silky black, spaghetti-strap nightgown. I hop up and go into the main house and check the doors again. Mr. Masters comes home tomorrow. I've been so busy with the children since he's been away. I already checked the doors earlier, but because I'm on my own with his children, I always double check the deadlocks so that Sammy can't escape if he happens to sleepwalk. It's my worst fear to wake up in the morning and he is gone. He hasn't had another episode since that first time. Apparently he only does it when there is a change in his home environment. Me arriving set him off. He seems to be settled now, though. I glance over at the stairs. The poor little guy had a bad dream a couple of hours ago. I might just go check on him one more time before I go to bed for the night.
I walk up the stairs in the dimly lit house, treading lightly down the hall. I slowly open the door and check on Willow first. She’s fast asleep, so I close the door behind me. I walk down to Sammy’s room and open the door, grateful to see he’s sleeping like a baby. The sound of his peaceful breathing makes me smile. This child has got me wrapped around his finger so tight, even his breathing makes me melt now. I turn around to go back downstairs when I hear a noise in Mr. Masters bedroom. I stop dead in my tracks.
What the hell was that?
Shit. I’m frozen in place as I listen, but I can definitely hear some rustling.
Oh my God, is someone in his room?
Are we being robbed?
My heart begins to beat furiously.
What do I do?
I slowly walk over to his room, peering inside, where I see his bathroom light is on and the door is ajar.
Someone is in the bathroom.
I tiptoe over to his bathroom door and peer inside.
Oh dear God.
Mr. Masters is in there, and he’s naked, with his hard dick in his hand as he strokes himself.
He’s lost in the moment, looking down at himself.
Watching his cock.
Holy fucking wet dream.
My lips part in awe. I can see every muscle in his shoulders and back in the mirror behind him as he strokes hard. His stomach muscles contract with every jerk of his hand.
He gets harder and harder, and his mouth hangs slack as he concentrates.
The man is so fucking hot.
My body instantly starts to hum with arousal, and I feel myself get a rush of moisture below.
He spreads his legs wide and leans back against the side of the basin as he really starts to let himself have it.
His pubic hair is dark and well kept, his cock huge, and I’m in fucking Heaven watching this forbidden show.
I just want to drop to my knees in front of him and take the job off of his hands… literally.
His strokes get harder, faster, and I feel as though I’m going to come, too.
I can feel how aroused he is, feel how good his cock would feel if it was inside me. He lets out a deep moan as he lets his head fall back, and I find myself holding my breath.
What are you doing? Leave! Leave now before he sees you.
His eyes flash up, and he falters as he sees me.
Our eyes lock, but something happens, and as if knowing how much I need to see this, he slowly strokes himself again.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
Fuck, yeah.
I begin to pant.
He starts again with long strokes, and I can hardly keep myself standing up.
This is ridiculous, but I can’t make myself leave.
He gets harder and harder, and my mouth hangs open as I watch his dick with anticipation. His dark eyes are locked on mine when he shudders and comes in a rush up onto his stomach.
The moan he lets out echoes all around me, and I begin to pant as I struggle for air. His semen is thick and white—perfect—and as an added bonus, he watches my reaction as he smears it across his stomach and chest.
I have no words.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
With my chest rising and falling, my eyes meet his again, and I watch as satisfaction crosses his face. “Good evening, Miss Brielle,” he whispers sexily as he continues to rub his semen in, his stomach glistening. I feel my insides clench. “We meet in my bathroom once again.”
My eyes widen. I don’t know what to say. What can possibly explain what I just saw?
What I just did…
What he just did.
So, I turn and I run.
Chapter Eight
I sit at the café’s table with a cup of coffee in my hands, and I stare through the window at the people on the streets as they casually wander to and fro.