Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
“I’ll come,” he warns. “Will that be okay?”
I break out in a smile. That’s Hunter.
I nod.
“On you?” he broaches.
A shiver courses down my spine. I nod harder. Hell yes. I want him to love this. I want to feel him.
He pulls off his shirt, rips open his jeans, and holds my eyes in the mirror as he licks his palm. I suck in a breath, excited. He wraps an arm around my waist and presses his mouth and nose into my hair as he rubs his cock. I see his arm moving in up and down motions in our reflection, but I feel it too.
I moan with him pumping it behind me, and I roll and roll over the vibrator, giving him something good to look at.
And before I know it, it’s like I’m fucking him. My ass hits his hips and his flesh, and he’s so hard. God, I want it deeper. I want him to slide inside of me.
Heat grows low in my belly, lightning building between my thighs, and it’s like I’m climbing and I’m almost at the top. I roll my head, sweat cooling the pores on my back. “Hunter, I’m ready,” I whimper.
He jerks me back into him again and again, and then pushes me harder down on the vibrator. “Fucking come, Dylan.”
I pump my hips, my orgasm cresting, and then it explodes, cascading through my entire body. A wave of pleasure crashes down on me, and my eyelids flutter. “Ahh,” I cry. “Ah, ah, ah…”
“Fuck,” he growls, jerking harder. His fist in my hair tightens, and he grabs my breast, something hot spilling onto me two or three times. “Ah, fuck.”
I shudder, my orgasm coursing through me, and in a moment, he slows, his hand finally stopping and his grip in my hair loosening.
He lowers his mouth to my hair, whispering, “Happy birthday.”
I try my best to hold back my smile as I feel his cum trickling down my left side. I wish I could see it.
Reaching back, I touch it and bring my hand back around, looking at him glisten on my finger. I hesitate for a sec and then put it in my mouth.
“Dylan,” he groans.
But I wrap my lips around my finger, sucking him all the way off. It’s warm. A little salty. It’s certainly not bad, though. Would he like how I taste?
I turn off the vibrator and avoid his eyes as I put my leg back down. I’m not used to his mood swings, and he might regret what we just did.
The room cools, the air clears, and I wait for him to leave. To walk out. To get pissy.
He doesn’t, though. He turns on the shower and then comes back to me, washing off my vibrator. He dries it and then wipes himself off me with the hand towel before picking up a hair tie from the counter and pulling my hair into a ponytail.
I let myself smile a little as we climb into the shower. He shuts the curtain, grabbing the soap, and I stand under the spray, getting my body wet.
“Have you…” I swallow. “Have you ever done anything like that?”
“No.”
He wets his hands, lathering them with soap. I move, letting him under the water.
“And the other women you said you’ve seen naked?” I ask.
He doesn’t reply, just comes in and washes me with his bare hands.
I point. “There’s a washcloth.”
But he just gives me a look, a smile playing over his mouth. He washes my arms and kneels down to clean my legs. Soaping up his hands again, he spins me around, bringing my back into his chest, and runs his fingers across my stomach before cupping my breasts. I lose the air in my lungs as he glides them up my back, down over my ass, and then hugs me to his body as he slides his hands down between my legs. Slipping inside, he cleans all of me.
“I want to take the vibrator home with me,” he says.
To his house?
“Why?” I blurt out.
Him washing me is getting me worked up again. I’m going to need it.
“Because I want to be a part of when you use it.”
I blink long and hard, thankful he can’t see. While I like the sound of that, I’m confused. Are we, like, friends doing a little exploring together, or does he want me? What if this is more for me, and it’s not the same for him?
My voice is smaller than I’d like when I admit, “I wanted to use it when I wake up in the morning.”
“You know that already?”
He sounds like he wants to laugh.
“I’m most relaxed then,” I explain. “I think about sex more in the morning.”
But in one fell swoop, he removes his hands from me and rinses off under the shower.
He steps out, leaving me behind, and I stand there, still soapy and just as confused. “Hunter…”