Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I make my way until I’m inside his garage-turned-gym. The beat of the rock music vibrates the concrete beneath my feet. Still, Ledger is pushing his body further than I could ever imagine. I’m about to take a seat on the weight bench when he lets go of the bar and lands light on his feet. He turns around, not surprised that I’m standing in the garage.
“Enjoying the show, butterfly?” It’s hard to hear him over the music. Good thing I can read lips. Speaking of, mine are suddenly dry at seeing his hair slick with sweat, messy in the way the strands aren’t lying in their normal way. The look on his face shows a craving that I know is consuming me. His five-o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, and Jesus, his chest. My thighs tighten. My knees lock. I’m pretty sure that was me who let out a mewl of sorts. “Fuck, yes, you were.” Light on his feet, he prowls toward me, confident in knowing what he does to me.
“Ledger.” His hands wrap around my hips, then slide beneath my tank top, pulling it up and over my head. I didn’t bother with a bra when I got re-dressed. His nostrils flare, tongue licking his lips, and his head dips down. I think he’s going to kiss me, am prepared for him to make me breathless. Instead, he lowers his head further and wraps his mouth around one nipple, sucking the tip deep into his mouth. My hands delve into his hair, holding him to me, unwilling to let him go. My thighs quiver from pressing them together in order to somehow quench this need for him whenever I’m around him.
“Butterfly,” he whispers along my heated skin. A different type of sheen appears before me, one not from working out but from a need that only Ledger can create inside of me.
“Don’t stop,” I whimper. His mouth moves away from my breast. Cooler air hits the sensitive bud. He moves to the other while his deft hands work the button of my shorts. I watch the entire time as his eyes stay on mine, his cheeks hollowing out with each deep pull around my nipple. The sensation carries down to my core. Ledger pushes the jean material down my hips, leaving me in only my thong as I step out of my flip-flops. The black gym mats beneath my now bare feet are warm from the weather, adding to the euphoria of this moment. The calloused hands I was admiring wrapped around the metal bar are now cupping the cheeks of my ass, pulling them apart, his fingertips sliding around until they graze the wetness as I widen my stance.
“I can feel how wet you are for me, and I’m going to watch as that pretty pussy of yours takes my cock,” he states, then he rips my panties down my legs until they’re in a torn puddle. His thick cock points up, the waistband of his shorts unable to hold it back anymore, and I watch as he takes care of his shoes and socks, shucking off his shorts. Now we’re both completely bare. “You like that, don’t you. I can see your wetness coating your inner thighs, making me want a taste. I do that, it’ll be too damn long until I feel your heat surrounding my cock.” He takes my hand and leads me to the weight bench I was going to sit on to enjoy a show. He lies down on it, legs on either side, his length flat against his lower abdomen, and pulls me toward him. I lift one leg. Ledger’s hands settle on my hips once again, his eyes locked on my dripping wet center as he guides me to where he wants me, sliding along the underside of his cock. His groan matches my moan as I rock my hips, edging closer to the thickest part of him. Being teased is fun and all, the buildup, the foreplay, it’s a heady sensation, but what I really want is him completely inside of me.
“Look at you, dripping wet. You want my cock, butterfly, get on it.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Lifting away from him makes me want to cry, almost. I use my thigh muscles, still feeling the burn along with walking bowlegged after what seems to be our marathon of sex in the past twenty-four hours. We’re making up for lost time. Ledger seems to have something to prove about the one and only time I was with someone else. And don’t get me started on the fact that I’m sure Ledger wasn’t a monk. There are some answers a woman does not want, one of those being past partners. Triple ick. My hand wraps around his thick length. The tips of my fingers barely reach around to touch. He’s that big.