Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I felt so right lying there on that bed as he dropped his trousers to the floor. I felt so right in my own skin in front of him, such confidence in being myself as he stared down at me. But he’d always made me feel like that, so right and so confident. So wanted. Even when I was a tiny little girl wanting to be told she was clever enough, funny enough, kind enough. Good enough.
Now I was a woman so hungry to be told she was beautiful enough by the man she loved, and he always delivered. Always delivered so much.
But it was more than that. He was more than that.
He’d been so much to me that he’d helped me believe it myself. Believe in myself.
“Spread those legs nice and wide,” he said, working his cock.
I did as I was told, spreading my thighs wide open and pulling up my skirt to show him my white panties.
“Rub that clit for me,” he said, and my fingers went straight down, working in circles through the cotton.
I knew what was coming when he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed and pulled me close to the edge. His mouth was so hot over my fingers, his tongue squirming hard between them to press in just the right spot. It was such a natural shift for my fingers to move to his hair, and it was so slick, so neat to be disturbed, so perfect to be grabbed at.
He made me moan. Made me wriggle. Made me buck against his face like a desperate little bitch.
He made me beg him to show me what he wanted. What he needed. What he was going to take from me that would leave me sore for days.
“Patience,” he said, and kept that tongue teasing. Coaxing. Pushing me to the edge.
Until I crashed over it. Hard.
I couldn’t hold back. I tipped my head back and breathed so fast, arching my back and pressing tight to his mouth while I whimpered his name.
But he kept on going. Kept on licking. Kept on sucking.
He pulled my knickers to the side and pushed two fingers in deep, and I loved it. I needed it.
I cried out as he pushed two into my ass, four of them in me at once, and it hurt. It hurt but felt so good.
“I wish you could appreciate how fucking beautiful you look with your tight little holes gripping my fingers. You’re so fucking tight, Faith. So fucking tight.”
It felt so raw as he fucked me with them. Long thrusts back and forth, mixed with circles to ease me looser. I could feel it. I gripped at the bedsheets and moaned for more, even though it was tender. Really, really tender.
“I’m going to get such big fucking toys for you to take for me, Faith. I can’t wait to show them to you. Such perfect gifts for my perfect girl.”
My perfect girl.
How much I wanted to be his perfect girl.
“More,” I whispered. “Please, Mr Lindon. More.”
“Say that again,” he said, and I cried out loud as his other hand came up to join the one inside me.
It was double. Double the fingers in both of the holes. I knew it must be. I felt it so hard.
“Say that again like a good girl,” he repeated, and I really was gripping at those bed sheets.
“More,” I said, louder. “Please, Mr Lindon. More. More, please, more!”
And fuck, how he gave it to me.
I could hear the wetness of my pussy so loud as he slammed me with those fingers, and my ass was burning so sore but wanted so much. I grunted and cried out, and tried to pull my thighs shut on instinct, but he shouted right at me, shouted at me to be a good girl and keep those legs wide open. And I did. I kept my legs wide as his fingers worked me.
“This is just the beginning, little girl,” he said. “There’s such a long fucking night ahead of us.”
I could only sigh at that. Sink into the soft warmth of his bed and thank my lucky stars for this man.
My man.
All mine as he twisted those fingers inside me.
I was losing track of everything by the time he climbed up on the bed on top of me. His mouth had been such a crazy pleasure amongst the strain of taking his fingers, holding me on the edge of coming like a highly strung violin squealing out a desperate tune.
That’s what I was.
Desperate.
Desperate for more, desperate for less, desperate for him. Always him.
His elbows were either side of my face, holding him above me. His eyes were burning mine, knickers still pushed to the side as he eased his cock inside me, nice and slow, nice and tight as he pushed all the way deep, and then he started pumping those hips.