Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
I’m suddenly starved for the taste of him. The taste of his pleasure. I’m craving it like nothing else, so I rise to my knees on the edge of the bed and reach into the opening of Clarke’s unzipped pants, taking his thickening flesh in my hands. As I stroke him, Clarke brings our mouths together and guides me through a slow, cherishing kiss, his hips rolling toward my grip in time with his seeking tongue. “Can I suck you here, Daddy?”
His head tips back on a groan. “How long have you been imagining yourself doing that to me?”
“A very long time.”
I whisper the age to him and a rope of come shoots across my lips. “That will be our little secret,” he says, gruffly, guiding himself to my lips with shaky hands. “Get my cock wet with your innocent mouth, angel. Show me what you dreamed about doing to Daddy, even when it would have gotten me arrested.”
The moment his thick staff slides between my lips, I’m overcome with his taste. It’s the most incredible texture and essence I’ve ever encountered. It causes a change to come over me, much like last night when Clarke tasted me. Suddenly I can’t get enough. I’m moaning around his stiffness, massaging him in both hands and trying to take him as deep as possible. The head of his sex caresses the back of my throat and I whimper loudly, my thighs flexing involuntarily on the bed. Need need need.
The door to my room opens and still I can’t stop bobbing my head, cramming my mouth and throat full of Clarke. I hear him shout, “Leave us, Karen,” and maybe I should be embarrassed that I’ve been caught in this intimate act by my friend…but I’m not. The click of the closing door means nothing to me. My eyes are tearing and moisture is leaving my mouth to drip down my chin and still I suck as hard as I can, hollowing my cheeks and listening to Clarke’s harsh pants, his seed trickling down the back of my throat in tasty little rivers.
“Stand,” Clarke orders, his voice choppy, his powerful hands fisted in my hair. “I can’t take any more.”
He doesn’t understand. I can’t stop. His pleasure is my addiction now. I whine as Clarke eases my head away and yanks me to my feet, whirling me around to face the wall.
“Which picture is your favorite?”
“Th-the one of you reading the paper. On the balcony in Italy.”
I’m propelled toward that section of the wall, Clarke crowding me from behind. “Would you stand in front of this picture and play with your little clit, Emery?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “All the time.”
His open mouth drags up the side of my neck. “Do it now while I fill you full of come.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
As he lifts the hem of my sleep shirt over my head, I sense his pause. “Is this my shirt?”
Without looking at him, I nod.
“I’m glad you stole it,” he says in my ear, licking my lobe, snagging it with his teeth. “I like knowing a piece of me was wrapped around you. Now get those fingers on your clit.”
My legs are like rubber, but I do what I’m told, looking at the picture I’ve mooned over a million times, only wonder of wonders, the man of my dreams is standing behind me now. I slide my middle finger between the folds of my womanhood and gasp as I make contact with the hardened nub. I bite down hard on my lower lip as I start to harass it with quick circles. I’ve only been stroking myself for a matter of seconds, before I feel Clark’s huge member tuck into my entrance. My breath suspends itself in my lungs, but I keep touching myself. How can I stop when his inhales and exhales are rasping in and out at the back of my neck?
His right hand cups my mouth, the other wrapping around my waist to lift me higher against his lap—and then he drives his rock-hard inches deep inside me, trapping my scream with his hand. “Daddy has needed you for so long,” he grates. “And you were right here, fingering your little cunt to pictures of him while he suffered uptown.”
“I’m sorry,” I gasp into his palm, trying to balance on my tiptoes.
“Do you know what I was thinking in that picture while I read the paper?”
I shake my head, my thighs beginning to tremble. “Keep touching your pussy and I’ll tell you.” My fingers blur back into motion and he resumes speaking. “I was wondering how the hell I can be in love with someone I can’t see. I thought I was losing my fucking mind. I almost cut that business trip to Italy short so I could get back to you—the scent and feel of you.”