Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“Make yourself come, baby girl,” he growls, making me gasp softly.
“I can’t,” I whisper as quietly as anyone has ever whispered before.
“My roommate is still—”
“It wasn’t a discussion.”
I groan, biting back the gasp of pleasure as his firm words and my own fingers send pleasure through my core. Fuck is it hot when he talks like that. When he commands like that.
“Touch your pussy, Anastasia,” he purrs into the phone. “Play with that pretty little cunt and make it come for me.”
…And I do.
I bite back the moan as I push my fingers wetly through my folds, rolling the hard nub of my clit before sinking two fingers deep inside. My breath catches, and my hips rock against my hand as the pleasure ripples through me. I pause for one second, slipping my head from under the covers and going still. But all I hear is the slow, rhythmic breathing that lets me know Kempton is asleep, and with that, I slide back under the sheets, and my hand delves back between my legs.
“Are you touching yourself, baby girl?”
“Yes.”
“Keep doing it,” he growls. “Play with that little cunt for me. Is it nice and wet?”
“Yes,” I moan breathlessly, rolling my clit under my fingertips again and again.
There’s a low grunt on the other end of the phone, and when I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of his breathing, and of his pleasure as he strokes his cock for me, I imagine him here, in the bed with me.
“You didn’t shower when you got home, did you?”
I groan, shaking my head.
“No, sir,” I gasp quietly.
Oliver grunts. “I could tell from the picture you sent. Do you know why?”
I can only whimper in response.
“Because I could see my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy. I could see the mess I made of your cunt. You can still feel me there, can’t you. You can feel how sticky your pussy is with my cum.”
I moan as quietly as I can, pleasure flooding through me as I slide my fingers deep and grind my clit against my palm. He’s right, I can feel his sticky cum still dripping out of me and knowing that it’s his cum that I’m rubbing into my clit has me so close to falling off that edge.
“My cock is still wet from you, Ana,” he growls. “I’m stroking it up and down, and it’s nice and big for you, baby girl.”
I gasp, my pulse racing faster and my body starting to tremble and seize up.
“Oliver…”
“Come for me, Ana,” he grunts, his groans getting louder in my ear. “Make that pussy come for me. Make a fucking mess for me.”
My fingers slide deep inside, curling right against that perfect spot just as I grind my clit into my hand, and when I hear him groan so deeply with his own release, I can’t hold back anymore.
I shove my free hand against my mouth, muffling my cries as I come again and again and again, my whole body trembling and shaking as I listen to Oliver Bard growl his own climax into my ear.
“Anastasia,” he growls lowly, purring out my name.
“Did you…”
“Yes,” he grunts, and I moan as I give my clit one last stroke with my fingertips.
“Happy birthday, baby girl,” Oliver says quietly, making my heart soar.
“Best birthday ever,” I whisper back.
“See you tomorrow, Ana.”
9
Oliver
My jaw twitches, my eyes narrowing as they sweep over the sea of faces staring back at me from their desks.
…She’s not here.
There’s a ball of fire burning inside of me as I whirl back to the blackboard, grabbing a piece of chalk. Though the architecture is old at Winchester, most classrooms have dry-erase whiteboards, if not huge-size touch screens for lessons. The blackboard and chalk was a personal request from me when I was hired. My mother was a school teacher, which is part of the reason I’m here even doing this. Blackboards worked for her, and they’ll damn well work for me.
But still the ball of fire burns inside of me, because in the sea of students sitting behind me ready for the lesson of the day, Ana isn’t among them.
Part of me growls, wondering if I pushed too hard last night. I wonder if she’s scared, or nervous to see me again. Or worse, that she regrets what we did. I snarl as I stare at the board, ignoring one little prick when he calls out asking which page of the textbook we’ll be starting on this morning. I want to rage, or yell, or just fucking leave the room and storm right over to her dorm to make sure she’s okay—
The door opens, and when I whirl to it, and see her standing there blushing, biting her lip with a little smile hidden behind it, it’s like a calm settles over me. I exhale, not even realizing I’ve been holding my breath. My eyes meet hers, and she blushes a little deeper as she steps into the room.