Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
The glass clinks against the windowsill as I place it down, my free hand grazing her hip as I move behind her. The other I use to gather her hair to the side as I press a kiss to the silken skin of her neck, a tiny, jagged exhale seeming to push the tension from her body.
“Just so you know, I’m fine with taking direction.” As her head rolls a little to the side in invitation, I slide my lips a little farther, my index finger drifting along the zipper running down the back of her dress.
“And with the power of suggestion,” she whispers, her voice all husk and want.
“That wasn’t a hint,” I whisper. “More like a wish.” Her skin smells of flowers and feels like petals as I continue to lavish her neck with slow, teasing kisses. “A wish upon a star,” I continue, lifting her right hand and pressing it to the cool glass. Our joined fingers seem to almost touch a brilliant star in the night sky.
“Oh, you’re good.”
“So I’ve been told.” Her rasping chuckle turns to a gasp as I graze my teeth over her neck. “Once or twice.” My words are nothing but a low rumble of desire.
“Only once or twice?”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you quality over quantity?” I feel her tremble against me as my fingers sweep over her thigh to begin gathering the fabric of her short dress in slow increments. I may seem cool on the outside, able to make light of her words, but my heart thrashes against my ribs, and I burn with an overwhelming need to lose myself inside her.
I’d gone out for a drive to get away from the city, to try to clear my head of the past few weeks. I wasn’t looking for company, but I couldn’t leave her stranded on the side of the road, not even when it became clear she was standing there talking to herself. She looked cute, sure, but it’s safe to say I hadn’t the smallest expectation or intention of being beguiled. I haven’t fucked in weeks, through a lack of interest more than opportunity. I hadn’t gone looking and had stopped answering my phone. I wasn’t interested.
But I am now.
Maybe the difference is in the situation rather than the girl. Maybe because she’d booked the room. Booked the room and blew my mind. Whatever the reason, I can’t touch enough of her, can’t feel enough of her as I press my hand a little heavier to hers before drawing it away. I snake my arm around her front, sliding it under the already heightened hem of her dress. Her reflection in the darkened window is heavy-lidded and soft-mouthed as I begin to trail my fingers along the thin ribbon of elastic on her underwear before pressing her between my hand and my cock.
“It also seems as though you can read minds.” Her words are halting and stuttering as I cup her heat
“Beautiful, I can also take a hint.” My utterance is part appreciation, part thanksgiving as my hand slips under the elastic to slide a finger between her already slick lips.
Her reaction is reflected back at me as clear as the pale lace of her underwear, her breathy sigh fogging the glass. Soft-eyed and wanton, she is slices of moonlight, dress, and underwear, slivers of soft satin skin as my hand bunches the dress at her hip, the other curled between her thighs.
“More.” My gut twists with need at her rasping demand and the way she rocks against me, desperate I take her there.
I give it to her, pressing two fingers deep inside her, curling them there.
“You’re such a good girl.” Her insides spasm around my fingers in response to the invasion and my words. “I can’t wait to get my mouth on you, make you so shiny and slick.” Her gasp is sharp and sweet, her surrender as satisfying as the skin of an apple yielding to the press of teeth. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I grow rock fucking hard at the sound of her whimpering, “Yes,” as I slide the now wet fingers a little higher to circle the soft rise of her clit. Pet and circle, toy and tease, the sight and scent of her drive me to the brink as I paint the tight bundle of nerves with her own wetness until her breathing is rapid and her words are incoherent.
She bucks against my hand, the sensation altogether too much as her fingers splay against the breath-fogged window.
“Oh, God. Yes!” The meat of her palm strikes the glass, planting the seed of an idea.
“Are you trying to catch someone’s attention?” I whisper, bringing my lips to her ear. “Would they look up and see you being fucked by anonymous hands?” In the window, my body is just a silhouette showcasing hers. “Would they stop and stare, wait to see your beautiful face as I make you come?”