Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
“Fuck me sideways,” she breathed. “That was insane.”
She had no fucking idea. He reached up on the bed and knocked open one handcuff, then the other. Yanking open the bedside table, he grabbed a foil condom and stuck it in his mouth, moving back on the bed, his need for her overriding any ability to stick to the plan, to take it slow and seduce her.
He ripped open the package and pulled out the condom. “I need to fuck you.”
She pulled her knees up, her legs open, and looked at him through hooded eyes. “Please.”
He barely had the condom on before he was between her open legs, his cock crying for contact. He put the tip of it against her and stopped.
“What?” she gasped. “What are you doing?”
His brain, which had been paralyzed with arousal during her orgasm, re-awoke. He took a moment and looked over her. Her skin was flushed, her nipples hard, a sheen of sweat across her chest. Her hair, always so prim and perfect, was loose across his pillow, her eyes heavy with pleasure, her legs open for him. Her pussy was wet and ready, the taste of her sweetness still on his tongue.
This was Stephanie fucking Wilson. His future. His heart. And he had her. He had her for one fucking night, and he was about to fuck her before he’d even kissed her.
He lowered himself above her and ignored the needy thrust of her hips, her greedy pussy trying to get at his dick. He placed a soft kiss on her left breast, then her right, silently promising them another thousand kisses in the future. He moved up her neck, and she cried out his name, her hands clutching at him, her wet pussy bumping against his hips.
He paused, just over her lips, and met her eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he said huskily.
“I need you,” she begged. “Please.”
He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. It was brief, a brush of lips, and he positioned his hips above hers, stealing another kiss, this one deeper, her tongue meeting his, a tiny fire of chemistry sparking. His dick found its home and he gently thrust, her inhale captured against his tongue. He withdrew and pushed a little deeper. Her body gripped him like a glove—a warm tight glove that he never wanted to leave. She was perfect, her pussy greedy, flexing and squeezing, her voice urging him on as her hands clawed at his back.
His worry of her pain dissolved in her pleasure, her body opening and adjusting quickly, and he pushed deeper into her than he’d ever gone in a woman before. “Is it—”
She screamed his name, her heels digging into him, and when he pulled back to see her face, the look of her orgasm took him over the edge. His thighs tightened, his breaths turning into animalistic grunts and he quickened his motion, his pleasure peaking. He groaned as his cock sprayed forth his release.
7
STEPHANIE
I was in his shower, running a thick washcloth over my shoulders when the power went out. The bathroom was suddenly dark, the water still running, and I quickly rinsed off and twisted the knob, stopping the spray.
I heard the door open and a faint bit of light entered the room.
“You okay?” Tripp called out.
“Yeah.” I could see the shower door handle gleam in the dim light and I reached for it, cautiously stepping out. “Can you pass me a towel?”
I reached out and was surprised when I felt the fluffy towel enclose me. He worked it over me, gently rubbing my shoulders, then my back, taking his time in drying my breasts, before shimmying it down my body and over my legs. I laughed. “I feel like a dog.”
I felt his lips and the scruff of his stubble as he brushed a kiss onto my shoulder.
“Stay here.”
There was the sound of a door in the dark, and then he worked my arms through a bathrobe and cinched it around me. He opened the door fully and tugged on my hand, bringing me through the dressing area and into his bedroom.
The far wall was all dark windows and I glanced for his bedside table clock, then remembered the power outage. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
It was ominous, how dark it was. A streak of lightning hit the horizon, and everything was illuminated for a moment. I gasped at the sight, the waves rough, the huge clouds everywhere, bearing down on us.
“Come in the living room. You can see everything there.”
I followed him into the open room, and he was right. The view there was of the south end of the building, emergency spotlights illuminating the area, and as I approached the window, I could see down to the road, the storm surge colliding with the levees, water spraying over the edge and coating the street. I thought of my car, up in the parking garage, and was glad our employee section was several floors up.