Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
During my outburst, he turns very still against me, his eyebrows drawing together in a deeply confused frown. Gently, he pulls his fingers out of me, raking them through his hair. Continuing to stare at me like he’s seen a ghost. “I…Jesus, Mandy. How can you say that?”
A sob is so thick in my throat, I can barely push out the words. “It’s true.” I take a deep breath and force myself to articulate what I’m feeling. “You cut me off from my friends, my family, my education. All the things that make me who I am. I just became yours. But I need to be more than that.”
Having gotten the weight off my shoulders, I slump against him, boneless, having no choice but to let him hold me up. “Mandy, I’m sorry. I love who you are. I love the psych major and the teacher’s pet and the girl who loves hidden adventures around Boston. You’re right, I got selfish and tried to keep you all to myself, so no one else could steal your magic from me,” he says fervently into my hair. “I’m just having a hard time controlling the way I feel about you. But I can do better. Come back to me, gorgeous, and let me do better.”
It's so tempting to say yes. Enough to make me dizzy.
“There’s no better for us.” Determinedly, I shake my head. “We get too lost in each other.”
“And you think that’s something we should throw away?” He takes me by the arms, shakes me while searching my face. “I love you. I’m in fucking love with you. It just hit me so hard I didn’t handle it the way I should have. Don’t walk away without giving me a chance to fix it.” He drops his mouth to my neck and licks my pulse, his hands beneath my dress once more, smoothing into the back of my panties, cupping my cheeks tight. “Come home and let me fuck it better.”
Heat inundates me, sending tingles to every erogenous zone in my body. “N-no.”
“Ah, baby. I need to put my come inside you right now or I’ll die.”
The word come makes me tremble. He might as well offer me eternal life. More than anything, I love when he fills me with all of that liquid heat, his face twisted in pain above or behind me, his muscles straining, the words oh God, oh my fucking God being shouted into the air. I love undoing him—and he knows it. I love him coming on my breasts, my back, my face.
“Stop…”
His open mouth drags sideways across mine. “Stop what?”
“Reminding me,” I moan.
“Reminding you how you’re a little beggar for my cock?”
Oh my God. “Yes.”
“No, I won’t do that.”
Before I can guess what’s happening, Bobby spins me around to face the bookshelf located on the farthest wall. His hand slides down and around my left hip and grabs my sex through my panties, massaging it roughly while he roots through his pocket for something.
His phone.
He sets it on the shelf in front of me and hits play. I’m so overcome by the treatment of his fingers between my legs that it takes me a second to realize what I’m watching.
It’s me and Bobby. In his truck. The night we met.
Making love for the first time.
Oh, my lord. I’ve never seen myself so abandoned, my hips slapping against his lap, thighs flexing, my cries filling the air as I ride him like an animal. On the screen, his eyes bore into mine, his lower body rocking, hands encouraging me to go faster, faster. At first, I think the moans are coming from the video, but no. It’s me now. I’m moaning as I watch the images grow rougher and more desperate on the screen.
I feel Bobby dragging my panties down to my ankles, his breath leaving condensation on the backs of my thighs, my bare bottom. I know I should protest, tell him to stop, but instead, I kick the underwear aside, slide my stance wider and tilt my hips.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “You want me to eat this tight pussy and ass, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper, going under.
Sinking down, down, down again. It’s like a welcoming embrace, this familiar underwater land where I’m a drug and he’s my drug and we get stoned off one another.
He yanks the cheeks of my backside apart and his tongue buries itself in my flesh. My back is arched, so he can easily reach my sex, rubbing my clit with the tip of his tongue while I watch my past self ride him eagerly on the screen of his phone. In the present, his fingers enter me, pumping, making juicy sounds, moisture running down the insides of my thighs. And he gathers it with his tongue and uses it to lubricate me in that forbidden place. Luxuriating in long licks of that puckered entrance, grunting and sticking his tongue into it, biting my backside in ways that will only add to the marks he left before.