Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Once we reach the gates, it’s clear that the ‘old’ house is under some kind of major renovation.
A temporary site fence with the main gate collapsed is all that stops us from getting inside.
That and the padlocked doors, but Rocco has us inside in seconds, using something from his pocket to force the lock.
He shrugs with a guilty smile, taking my hand in his but making sure he goes first.
I don’t think anyone’s been here for some time, but the scent of sawed lumber and old plaster fills my senses, along with the trailing warmth of Rocco’s cologne.
The man just smells so damned good no matter where he is or what’s happening.
There’s a dim light from one of the biggest rooms nearest the entrance. Most likely a light left on by whoever’s rebuilding the place.
But the place feels as empty as a cemetery tonight, save for ourselves.
He wastes no time in finding the living room and the fireplace. Casually announcing he’s gonna get a fire going, he slips out of his jacket and peels off his T-shirt.
Ummm… I think your fire’s already lit, Rocco….
The same applies when he muses aloud that he’s gonna need to find some wood.
Shamelessly sliding his jeans off, I can see his wood clearly, and yeah.
It’s getting hot in here already. No actual flames required.
“Maybe there’s wood under here,” he mutters, lifting some canvas by the fireplace, smacking his lips in victory when he finds what he’s looking for.
But me?
I’m already undone.
On my knees and unable to keep upright at the sight of the man, totally naked, his huge cock bobbing against his belly like it’s not the most amazing thing in the world.
It’s not until I’m on all fours, feeling my pussy pulse and quiver under my clothes, that he turns. Letting me see the smirk on his face. That knowing look he gives me once he lets me know without a word that he’s got me right where he wants me.
I’m his alright.
And he’s got me so horny right now I’d literally do anything he asked, as long as it meant him filling me with that huge dick of his.
“Rocco,” I whisper hoarsely, but his need is as great as my own.
In three long strides across the room, he lifts me up like I weigh nothing and heads for the nearest piece of furniture.
Rocco pulls the drop sheet off the huge, ancient leather sofa like a magician performing a trick.
But no plates and glasses are left standing, only me on my back.
I melt under his touch as he firmly and swiftly yanks my clothes off, tossing them aside like I’ll never need them again.
“Now, my little kidnapped virgin,” he growls with authority, letting his eyes run all over me as he savors the moment.
“Let me count the ways I’m gonna fill that tight little hole of yours,” he says loudly, speaking over a rumble of thunder right over the house.
It makes it sound like he is a god about to have his way with me like a force of nature.
The flash of more lightning from outside and all the shadows from the huge room and all its ancient furniture around me only add to the effect.
His nakedness is like a living statue, each muscle perfectly proportioned to everything else.
The man’s perfect, and I shudder another loud moan as he drops to one knee, hovering over me a moment before I feel his wet warmth smothering my whole body.
“You feel so soft, so fucking perfect,” Rocco groans, letting his huge hands run over my stiff nipples, down over my belly. All the way to the hottest and wettest parts of me, making me shudder uncontrollably.
He knows it’s not from cold either. It’s from a deep-seated need, and the cure is already pressing against one of my thighs.
His rod is so hard, so hot to the touch, but also smooth and bumpy along the shaft.
A whole world I vow to explore further, but right now, we both know where his hardness needs to be.
I should be asking him to be gentle, being my first time and all. But Rocco’s always gentle, even when his grip’s firm and his manhood even firmer.
But I’m hoping he doesn’t think I’m made of glass.
I’ve discovered real early that I like things a little rough and wild as well as soft and cuddly.
My softness smashing against all his hardness has a balancing effect, and there’s plenty of my softness to meet every inch of his body’s hardness.
Everything I used to feel self-conscious about until today seems to be the very thing that turns Rocco on.
And by turned on, I mean ravaging me like a wild cave animal.
I wouldn’t have thought anyone could be into me physically, and having a man like Rocco on top of me, in between my legs and with his hungry mouth hot over mine, it’s another ‘I must be dreaming’ moment.