Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
The mystery woman continues moaning while Callum commands her body. Her legs now rest against his shoulders, and he continues feasting. He must be legendary at eating pussy since she’s practically wailing.
“Callum… yes. Yes! Yes!” she purrs, her voice thick with desire.
I tell myself this is no different from watching porn. I’m not doing anything wrong, right? He’s only my best friend’s father.
Pressing her legs to her chest, he pulls back and releases her breasts in favor of snaking a hand between her legs. The way he has her bent, her pussy exposed, leaves nothing to my imagination. I pant. Another gush of arousal escapes my core, and I’m surprised I haven’t made a mess on the seat.
Lucas has never touched me the way Callum’s touching her, the way he’s dining on her like she is the last meal he’ll ever have. He presses two thick digits into her pussy, and I watch as they disappear inside of her, stretching her. If I stare long enough, I can almost envision him sinking those same fingers into me. I can almost feel their thickness stretching me, commanding me. I look from her pussy to his face. His gaze is dark and focused on the same spot I was watching.
The urge to touch myself, to make myself come, is consuming, and when he leans forward, diving back between her legs, I bite my lip to stifle a groan of pleasure.
I’m dripping—lost and helpless—caught up in my desire for a man that is completely out of my reach.
I shift my legs, the movement causing my thighs to rub together. The ache refuses to dull, and the only way to make it stop is to give in. But I can’t. It’s wrong.
The patio lights gleam off Callum’s thick, dark hair, his bare shoulders, and chest. Callum is always intense, stony, like an immovable slab of marble, but now it’s more noticeable as he pumps his fingers into the moaning blonde whose tits bounce with every thrust.
How many times have I had this same dream?
Except, I was the woman he was fucking, taming, taking pleasure from. I wonder if the rumors are true? That he fucks as dirty as he fights.
It should be me.
My body he’s touching, licking, kissing.
My clit he licks while his thick, strong fingers pummel my pussy. I wish I could see his cock, but he’s still clothed from the waist down. In my fantasies, I’ve imagined his cock to be immense, his girth thick, thanks to the tempting outline in his suit pants.
I can’t count how many times I’ve caught myself staring at him. All I could think was… would he break me as he pushed inside? His massive cock becoming too much for my little pussy to handle. I shudder, the pressure in my core too intense to be ignored. The sight of his body, the moans of the woman he’s feasting on. It’s wreaking havoc on my fragile libido.
Oh god. I shouldn’t. It’s wrong. Very wrong. I know this, but I never claimed to be a good girl, did I? The ache of desire becomes almost painful, and I need to extinguish the fire. Even if it’s wrong, I need this. Snaking a hand beneath my nightshirt, I roll one of my nipples between my fingers the way Callum is doing to the blonde with his free hand. Pleasure zips through my center, and I crave it with a soul-filling desire. I envision my fingers as his, the rough texture of them scraping against my tight peak.
The temperature of my body rises as all my attention turns to his other hand, the one pounding into her. The forbidden aspect of it, the wanton need claiming every inch of my body, makes me wetter. Instinct tells me to run, but I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.
Spreading my legs wider, I prop one foot on the stool while I slip my other hand beneath my thong. My lips part, and my tongue darts out over my bottom lip as I dip them into my wet heat, pretending it’s his fingers there instead of my own.
This is so wrong. Filthy. What is wrong with me?
I’ve fought against my infatuation for five years, and I know this could end up ruining my friendship with Tatum. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to, not when it feels so good to fuck my clit and pretend I’m the girl the infamous Callum Torrio is driving to the brink of insane pleasure. Right now, I just want to feel good, and if I can do it while watching a man I’ve spent years fantasizing about, then I will.
“Don’t stop!” The blonde pants, getting closer. “Ooh, fuck, baby… that’s right, just like that! I’m gonna come! Please, don’t stop!”
Tossing her head back, her lips part and a silent scream escapes before she falls against the chair, her body heaving in an orgasm so intense it possesses her body, leaving her convulsing. Fuck. I’m jealous. I’ve never orgasmed like that.