Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
That’s all it takes for me to careen over the edge and into oblivion. I moan as he continues to stroke my pussy. This isn’t my first orgasm, but it’s certainly the hardest one I’ve ever had. It crashes over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drag me to the very bottom of the ocean. The pleasure rushing through me is so great that I don’t care if I ever surface again.
Almost distantly, I realize that all I’ve been doing in the darkness was fumbling around. The pleasure was nothing more than a paper tiger compared to this. Minutes tick by, or maybe it’s hours before I finally float back to earth. My limbs feel heavy as I once again become aware of my surroundings.
He continues to stroke my clit with gentle fingers before he leans over my upper body and presses his lips against my scar. It’s so tempting to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. I want to revel in the newfound pleasure he’s opened my eyes to. Before I can work up the courage, he pulls away and the moment of intimacy vanishes into thin air.
I lie still as he rises to his feet and wonder if he’ll shed his clothing.
Instead, his footsteps fade from the room, growing more distant. The door in the outer area opens before softly clicking back into place. Seconds pass as I lay paralyzed with the robe still gaping open.
Did he really…
Walk out the door and leave me?
After giving me the best orgasm of my life, which granted doesn’t mean much, he just left?
I rip away the blindfold and blink, staring around me, looking for some sign of the man who was here.
Who ran his hands over my body.
Who pressed his lips against my scar.
A shiver dances down my spine at the intimate memories.
But there’s nothing.
I slip from the bed and tighten the robe around my body before cinching the belt and beelining for my purse to rifle through it. My fingers wrap around my cell as it chimes with an incoming message. A bank notification pops up, announcing that ten grand has been deposited into my account.
I can only stare at the screen in disbelief.
We didn’t even have sex.
Did he change his mind?
Was he unable to go through with it?
My heart clenches at the possibility.
Sure, he kissed my scars, but maybe, in the end, they repulsed him. I tuck an errant lock of hair behind my ear as a heavy pit settles at the bottom of my belly. I pull up the number I texted earlier and stare at it.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard.
It’s so tempting to reach out.
Is that allowed?
Am I crossing some sort of invisible line?
I chew my lower lip and contemplate it for a minute or two.
I’ve already been paid for the first visit. No matter what, that’ll take care of the majority of my bill.
But I need to know if he’s changed his mind. If so, I’ll have to figure out another way to come up with the money.
Because there’s no way I can go through this again with another man. It was hard enough to work up my courage the first time around.
It’s slowly that my thumbs slide over the keys until the question stares back at me. One that makes my heart hammer against my ribcage.
Was it my scar?
I force myself to hit send, not wanting to chicken out and delete the message.
Before I can suck in a full breath, his response pops up.
Absolutely not. Why would you think that?
I release the air trapped in my lungs until they’re completely empty.
Because it’s ugly.
There’s nothing ugly about you. Every damn inch is beautiful.
I blink in surprise as a hot tear rolls down my cheek. Before it can drop onto the robe, I swipe it away with the back of my hand. Those ten words have all the chaotic emotion swirling within me dissolving into nothingness.
Thank you.
Looking forward to our next meeting.
My fingers linger over the miniature keyboard.
Me, too.
The strangest part of this text interaction is that I actually mean it.
Chapter 16
Wolf
My gaze fastens onto her the moment she slips from the apartment building. When guilt pricks at me for forcing her into this situation, I quash it down. The need I feel for her is almost unbearable. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I laid my hands on her, and already my fingers tighten with the urge to do it again. Being that close, trailing my lips along her silky flesh, stroking every part of her body was even better than I imagined.
And getting her off?
Fuck.
My cock stirs with the memory.
It doesn’t matter that I didn’t come.
I’m not in a rush.
What I don’t want to dwell on is whether these encounters will be enough to satiate me for the rest of my life. Now that I’ve gotten a small taste, I’m guessing it won’t be.