Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Baby…face down, ass up.” He got off the bed and stroked himself as he grabbed the oil from the nightstand.
“Mmm…” I rolled over and positioned myself closer to the edge of the bed. Knees parted wide and kept close to my stomach, elbows hitting the mattress, leaving my ass completely exposed to him. “Come and get it.”
Definitely our favorite position. He slicked himself up and remained standing on the floor.
He smacked my ass, and I hissed.
“Can’t get what’s already mine.” He bent over me and pressed a kiss to my spine. “Say it.”
Gladly.
“All yours, Jake.”
“That’s my boy.”
God.
I fisted the sheets and drew an unsteady breath as he swiped his tongue over my asshole. And he didn’t stop there. He never did. He tongue-fucked me softly, teasingly, while he rubbed oil into my spent cock.
It was a wonderful mindfuck to be physically satisfied and mentally horny as hell. His ministrations built up pressure deep inside me, and he was in no hurry. He kneaded my ass cheeks and pierced me with his tongue as his scruff rasped against my sensitive skin.
He squeezed my balls gently and fucking suckled at my ass.
“You dirty fuck.” A breath gusted out me, and I peered at him over my shoulder.
He hummed and raked his fingernails down the backsides of my thighs. Then he pushed me down more, and he stood up and wiped his mouth. “Push back. I wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Okay.” I wet my bottom lip and wriggled my ass against him. He was rock hard and ready. “Give it to me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Damn right.” He stroked my ass and got me where I needed to be, and I got lost in a drawn-out shiver that coursed through me. That was step one in reawakening my body. Making me want more.
Perfect.
I pressed back on the head of his cock, and he disappeared inside. Just a couple inches.
“You know what to do when you want me to take over,” he said.
I nodded jerkily and started easing back and forth in short thrusts. “I’ll beg you till you call me good boy.”
Fuck, that felt good. I was still sensitive from my orgasm, tired and needy at once, mentally ready for round two. I pushed back harder and buried him all the way in, and that earned me more of his affectionate touches. I craved them. They were silent good-boys. That’s it, fuck yourself on me like that. Maybe we were always supposed to reach this point, but it’d begun as a fluke. He’d tied me up once. He’d become more dominant. I’d lost my filters and admitted to wanting to worship his body.
Now I couldn’t get enough of the rough and demanding man he turned into in the sack.
I’d known he had it in him from the fucking start.
I clenched down around his cock and took all of him, and he cursed and kneaded my ass cheeks more firmly.
“More, please,” I moaned. “Fuck me, baby. I need it.”
“You really fuckin’ do,” he murmured. “How hard?”
“So I’ll feel it when we go to the store later.” I let my forehead touch the mattress, and I gripped the sheets tighter. “Please. I need your perfect cock so bad.”
He chuckled huskily and slipped his hands to my hips. “I love it when you get all slutty for me.” He pushed in deep and stayed there for a beat. “When I get right here—every time—I want you to bear down so hard it feels like you’re milking my cock. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Good boy.”
I flushed with heat and braced myself.
Two, three, four…deep, measured thrusts…and then he started fucking me harder. Faster. The bed shook. The air filled with our heavy breaths and the sounds of skin hitting skin. My cock became hard again, and I wedged a hand between myself and the mattress so I could stroke myself.
“Jesus fuck, how can you be so tight?” he gritted out.
Because I did my exercises like a good boy, of-fucking-course.
I planned on keeping my man satisfied for the rest of our lives.
I met his every thrust and clenched down as he’d told me, and it wasn’t just for him. He felt so fucking good when it hurt a little, when the last couple of inches of his cock had to be forced inside because the base of him was thicker.
When he began drilling into me, I knew he was chasing his orgasm. I stroked myself harder and felt the pleasure well up and tingle south, down my spine, to my balls. I started panting and moaning uncontrollably.
“Fill me,” I gasped.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “You’ll get every drop, boy.”
Boy.
I didn’t know why that term set me off the way it did, but I fucking loved how it stripped me of everything I identified with outside the bedroom. When he called me boy, I was just his. I existed solely for him and our pleasure. It was him and me against the world.