Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Deep down inside, I think she'd like it… eventually, anyway. She can't deny how her body needs mine, no matter what her brain tells her. There's always going to be a more profound wisdom beneath the surface.
She still looks miserable when she sits on the bed after pulling back the blanket. “Regretting your choices, huh?” I murmur, stroking myself faster, staring at her legs and wishing I was there to pry them open. “I bet you wish you had stayed now.”
Or is there something more? If I could only ask and get an answer. She told Tatum she doesn't want to block my number, which only gives me hope. I can still get through to her. Remind her that no matter what's dragging her down, I will do everything in my power to remove it from her life. No matter what it is.
I fucking killed for her. What else must I do to prove what she means to me?
Her hands land on her thighs the way I wish mine could, and I stroke myself faster when they begin to creep up, almost reaching the hem of her shirt. “That's right,” I whisper, panting. “Touch yourself. Make yourself feel good. Envision me touching you. Do you wish I was there?”
My heart is ready to burst by the time she lies back, swinging her legs up onto the bed, then parting them. This is precisely why I wanted the camera angled the way it is now; I have a straight shot of her pussy, still covered by a thin piece of fabric, but only until she peels it off and sets it beside her.
Holy shit. Has it really only been two days since I gazed upon this glorious sight? Since I swept my tongue along her seam and reveled in her reaction. Her fingertips brush the insides of her thighs and I moan, using the cum dribbling from the tip of my cock to lube my shaft.
“That's right, baby,” I grunt, eyes glued to the spot between her legs. “Make yourself feel good. Do it for me, little bird. Come for me.”
She closes her eyes, arching her back at the first contact with her smooth pussy lips. Her mouth falls open and her head to the side when she strokes her pretty, pink clit. She knows just what to do and I watch, stroking faster, grunting with desire.
That could be me. It should be me.
Her head rolls from side to side, and she pulls up her shirt with her left hand, exposing her heaving tits. She takes one in her hand, massaging, tweaking the nipple until her teeth sink into her lip. She tries to contain a moan but can't entirely, and the soft sound makes my balls lift. That sound, the sound of pleasure. That's all I want to give her.
Her fingers move in a blur over her clit, her touch light, and soon her hips jerk rhythmically while her breath quickens. So does mine, my rasps filling the air, my heart racing while I fist my cock faster while careening toward the edge the way she is.
“Come with me,” I grunt, staring at her pussy, tightening my grip the way her cunt would tighten around me if I were inside her now. Goddammit, I want to be inside her. Now, always, forever.
She opens her mouth to moan again, and this time there’s a name to go along with it. “Callum...”
Fuck. It's that single word moaning at the last moment before her hips lift, and she goes still, that makes cum spill over my fist and onto my lap. I can barely silence my roar of triumph. The release, mixing with the knowledge that it was me she was thinking of, was me she was imagining working her clit until she came.
There's a wet spot under her ass when she settles back down, and slowly she withdraws her fingers from her glistening folds.
I'm almost dizzy, spent from the force of coming harder than I have in ages. All that pent-up need rushing out of me all at once. I don't care that I made a mess of myself. I don't care about anything but knowing she was thinking of me. Imagining me.
How much longer will she be able to imagine before she breaks down when her body demands the real thing?
I reach for a tissue while she lies still, catching her breath and staring up at the ceiling. She’s glowing, at peace, and I gaze at her in wonder while she comes down from her high. There is nothing in the world as beautiful as my little bird when she’s just come, all flushed and radiant and spent.
“Callum,” she whispers again—but this time, there's a catch in her throat. A tremble in her voice. I watch in dismay as she throws her forearm across her eyes, and her soft sobs begin. Her body shakes from the force, tears rolling down her cheeks.