Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
“I’ve been waiting far longer than that.” His tongue wets his bottom lip like he’s been starving for me. “The spirit was more than willing but the flesh was otherwise occupied.”
“It looks fine now.” I drop my gaze pointedly to his erection, which bobs against his stomach as he watches me.
I drop my blouse on the floor and give him a minute to take in my red satin bra and panties. I put them on in the morning with the intent to wow him tonight, and it seems to do the trick; he takes his cock in his hand and strokes himself slowly.
I’ve gotten used to our powerful connection, and I’ve been able to ignore it over the past few weeks when I’ve needed to. Now, it’s too insistent to ignore. I squeeze my thighs together and my feet shift, restless. I reach behind me to unhook my bra, and he stops me.
“Leave it on,” he says. “And the panties.”
I go to the bed and slide up next to him. It feels so good to touch, to have our bodies pressed skin to skin again. It’s like a cold bottle of water after a hard workout; it’s refreshing, even if the person giving it to me is someone I can barely tolerate.
“Okay, I have to admit, I’ve missed this,” I breathe against his shoulder, mesmerized by the sight of his big hand still slowly pumping his cock.
“I know you have. I could feel you.”
“I’m sure you could.” The only stress relief and self-care I have time for anymore is masturbation. And I’ve been under a lot of stress.
“I wondered if you’d taken a lover.” It’s a question disguised as a statement.
No, because I’m not unfaithful like you are. I’m not going to bring that up now. The last thing I want to think about—the last thing I want him to think about—is that other woman. “I haven’t had time to interview potential candidates.”
“You did audition one,” he says. “I noticed it was missing from my nightstand drawer.”
I don’t want to think about why he went looking for it.
He reads my thoughts on my face. “Don’t pout. It’s only for you. In fact, I bought it with you in mind. I was going to bring it tonight, but I found it was already here.”
To my embarrassment, he pulls the two-pronged vibrator from beneath one of the pillows. He turns it on and offers it to me. “Show me.”
I hesitate.
“Go on. I want those panties dripping wet before I bury my face in them.”
Those words flood deep through my groin. Other things flood there, too.
I lean back on the pillows to get comfortable, and he clucks his tongue, scolding me. “No, no. I can’t see anything from this angle. Get on your hands and knees.”
I rise up on my knees, uncertain how to proceed or how it could possibly make his view better, and he adds, “Face away from me. Legs further apart, please.”
Why is it so fucking hot when he bosses me around like this? When he tells me what to do in daily life, I want to smack his stupid, handsome face. But right now, all I want is to perform every task he gives me to his utmost satisfaction.
Well, and my satisfaction.
With my ass in the air, my panty-covered crotch centimeters from his face, I slip the vibrator beneath my waistband and position the prongs on either side of my clit, just as he used it on me before. Except now, after some experimenting on my own, I know exactly what settings I like. I nudge the button and find the speed and pulse that will fulfill his request.
“You thought of me,” he says, reaching out to stroke a finger up and down the silky fabric between my legs. “When you got yourself off.”
I did think of him, and I’m pissed off that he guessed it, but there’s no point in lying. “I did. I remembered how good you feel inside me.”
“Did you finger yourself while you imagined my cock in you?” His slow stroking separates my labia and gently nudges my panties between them. If he wants me good and soaked, he’s going to get his wish; his touch and his words quicken the pulse in my clit. The vibe buzzes away and I push back on his hand.
Two fingers slip past the panties and into my cunt, and he hooks them down, pushing hard on my g-spot. I let out a moan so primal, I startle myself.
“Did you make yourself come like this?” He asks, grinding those fingers into my sensitive flesh. I feel the pressure and sensation deep in my pelvis as my clit is worked from both sides, internally by his hand, externally by the vibrator.
“Did you get this wet?” He asks, then says, “Listen. Do you hear yourself?”