Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 152710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Trailing my hands up the insides of her legs as I straighten, I test her pussy. Wet. My finger slips right in. She goes on tiptoes. I pull out, leaving a wet trail of arousal as I trace her spine. She shivers. I curl my fingers around her nape and push her upper body down gently. She catches the ornamental ledge under the mantelpiece to keep herself steady. She’s wet and open, flowering, inviting. I free my cock through my fly. Holding the base in one hand, I position my erection at her entrance. I only touch her hip as I drag the head up and down her slit, mixing my pre-cum with her arousal. I itch to stroke my palms over her back, but it’ll hurt. That artwork I only caress with my eyes. This is why I have to take her like this. Today, I won’t be watching her face when I come. I’ll be watching the marks I left on her body, and it makes my cock twitch. I get harder. It’s depraved, but I don’t need excuses for what I am. We are what we are. The map on her back makes me forget about who we could’ve been. It’s heaven to be in the moment, in the pleasure. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.
When I’m well lubricated, I push inside her body, stretching her slowly. I watch her cunt swallow my cock, her lips stretching to take me while her breathing quickens and her nails scrape over the marble flowers on the wall. I keep on going until I’m buried to the hilt. Keeping still inside her so she can adjust, I reach around for her clit. Her skin is slippery. She pushes back against me when I start to rub. She moans when my other hand finds her breast, stroking and teasing her nipple until it’s taut.
When she starts moving, I grab her thighs and keep her still. This is my scene. My pace. I pull out almost all the way and thrust again. She tries to widen her stance but the shorts around her ankles prevent her. It feels tighter. There’s more friction. She moans. I tell her to keep perfectly still while I slide out of her tight pussy and stab the length of my erection back in with one shove. Her knees buckle. She almost collapses. I go softer because I can’t keep her up and enjoy the sight of her pussy stretching around me. She ripples and clenches inside. It’s too much, even at this slow pace. I’m going to blow.
“Touch yourself, Lina. Come.”
Her hand moves between her legs. Her fingers curl around my dick when I pull out, squeezing, and I almost shoot. I grind my teeth and stop moving while she rubs her clit until I hear that little sound that tells me she’s there.
We go over together. I grind my groin against her ass as she pushes back against me. I wish this would never end, this feeling of euphoria and connection I’ve only ever had with her. She’s not my first, but she’s my only.
I pet her while she comes down from her high, and only pull out when there are no more aftershocks running through her abdomen. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her to the shower. I adjust the water to a lukewarm setting. Even so, it’s going to sting. She hisses as the spray rains down on her back. I wash her quickly, touching her welts as little as possible. I’m careful with the towel, patting her dry gently. I give her another two painkillers and rub lotion on her back. Then I tell her to lie down on the bed and rest.
Lying on her stomach, she watches me dress with her cheek on the pillow.
“Damian?”
I can’t get enough of looking at her. “I’ll bring you some tea. You need to keep hydrated.”
“Who was your first?”
My fingers still on the buttons on my shirt. “I didn’t know her name.”
“Why not?”
“We met at the waterpark. Did it behind the trees. I didn’t ask. She didn’t offer.”
“Was it good?”
I push my shirt into my pants and zip up. “It was awkward. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering.” Her voice is soft, far-off, or sleepy, maybe. “How many after her?”
“I didn’t count.”
From the soft nest of her pillow, she gives a faint smile. “That many, huh?”
Walking to the bed, I look down at her, the only woman I ever really wanted. Want. Will want forever. I drag my finger down her arm, over the bumps of her scars. “Didn’t you sleep with anyone before Clarke?”
She inhales and holds it, then blows the breath out slowly. “No.”
“You make me wish I hadn’t.”
She lifts her head. “Hadn’t what?”
“Slept with anyone before you.”
Something in her eyes shifts. Our gazes are locked, our breaths quiet. We’re both uncomfortable in the enormity of my confession.