Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
My breath gets short in anticipation. Usually these dinner games always end with him dragging me upstairs. To the bath or the bed.
I wait for his finger to descend with more chocolate.
Instead, his chair scrapes on the tile as he shoves backward from the table. He grabs my upper arms and pulls me forward.
“Suck,” he growls.
And that’s when I see he’s coated the tip of his long, glorious cock in chocolate pudding.
I don’t need any more encouragement. I lean forward, about to eagerly gobble him up when I hesitate at the last second.
Instead, I extend the tip of my tongue and lick the chocolate just from the very tip of his slit. He hisses and his cock bobs toward me.
My core starts to melt at seeing his reaction and my sex gets even wetter. If I was wearing panties, they’d be soaked. Tentatively, I lick all around his crown.
Teasing licks.
Tasting then retreating.
“I said, suck,” he says.
But when I continue to nibble and smear my lips with chocolate and his essence without ever fully taking him into my mouth, he simply sits back in his chair and watches me through hooded eyes.
The only way I know I’m affecting him at all is the occasional hitch in his breathing and the way his cock jumps every so often under my torturous explorations.
“Goddammit,” he finally whispers, and I realize his fingers are white-knuckled on the side of the chair.
Only then do I bob my entire head down on his cock and swallow him so deep I’m choking on him. But I love it, knowing I’m driving him absolutely insane after the long session of teasing him.
I massage his balls as his hands come to my hair.
I think he’s going to hold me down while he starts pumping up and down into my throat, but instead, no, he’s getting my attention to lift me off of him.
I raise up, a little confused.
“Ride me, Precious.”
His pupils are blown with lust and that’s when I realize his cock is longer and harder than I’ve almost ever seen it.
“Oh,” I whisper as he lifts me by my waist and settles my aching sex down on his huge cock.
“Oh God, you’re hung like a horse.”
He laughs—that low, throaty chuckle of his that I adore.
“Not quite,” he says, “which I bet you’re grateful for. Now hush and let me love you.”
I meet his eyes and I swear, if there were any corner of my heart this man hadn’t already conquered, yeah, I’d be a goner right here, right now. As it is, I lost all of myself to him a long time ago.
He holds me, chest to chest, impaling me so deep that with every thrust he hits that spot. I gasp and he kisses me, swallowing it.
“I love you,” I whisper between kisses.
“Love you too, Precious. Forever and always.”
Hurt So Good
One
DYLAN
I stare over the rim of my glass of bourbon, watching the bombshell in the red dress work the room.
She’s good, I’ll give her that.
She flirts just enough with the men—only the important ones, I note—a touch of her hand on their shoulder, the brush of her hip, the flash of her smile. She’s making them feel like they’ve gotten something from her but then she moves on before they can really get a taste.
And the more I watch her, a taste is exactly what I want of the woman.
I don’t even know her name but my cock has been stiff for the last half hour as I’ve nursed my bourbon and watched her.
This is a bullshit mixer the Silicon Valley Robotics Symposium puts on every year, and it’s made exactly for this kind of shit. To encourage the greasing of wheels that actually gets deals done. An open bar. A tight red dress. A word or two in the right ear.
The hotel ballroom is dimly lit while a band plays soft, unremarkable jazz on a small stage up front. Meanwhile, middle-aged men with flushed faces laugh too loudly at jokes and are a little too obvious about their hopes for getting laid. Because it’s a tech conference though, there are about two guys to every woman, so their chances aren’t good.
And then there’s her. The woman in red.
I wonder what company the woman represents.
It doesn’t matter. You aren’t going to find out and you sure as fuck aren’t getting a taste of her.
I frown and tip my glass back, draining the last of the bourbon. Don’t know why the fuck I even stopped by here after my presentation. My brother, Darren, kept saying I needed to at least show my face or it would look rude after I gave the keynote speech. Considering he’s also my business partner, I thought, fine, I’ll drop in for a few minutes and then get the hell out of here.
Until I saw her.