Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I opened my mouth to do just that but only a rush of air escaped.
Holy shit. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to keep going, to do more, to take it further. To push my boundaries. To let me experience something with him I’ve never experienced before.
I was safe with him.
He wouldn’t judge me.
I also trusted him to stop if I told him to, if things got to be too much. If I wasn’t ready for this.
“I can’t.” Did I say that? Did I really tell him to continue?
I closed my eyes and pressed my back into his chest, pressed my ass against his cock, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as they got bolder, faster.
My cock was so damn hard, it was uncomfortable. I needed him to touch me. I needed relief. But his hand was still glued to my gut.
His low voice filled my ear. “You can’t because you don’t want me to stop?”
This had to be one of my dreams, right?
I was dreaming this and would wake up at any moment. When I did, I would simply pull one off and then forget all about it. I could take that dream to my grave, too, like the other one. And any future ones.
But if I was only dreaming, what would it hurt if I allowed him to have his way with me? If I enjoyed his attention and touch?
No one had to know.
With my hand over his, I pushed it lower to below my navel and until his fingertips brushed the elastic of my boxer briefs.
My cock flexed with my need for him to wrap his hand around it and pump it the same way he was pumping his against my ass.
This was a dream. Only a dream.
Let it happen and see how it feels. When you wake up you’ll realize you’re not gay or bi, or whatever, because you’re straight. You like women. You love Dahlia.
Dreams were made for you to do all the things you wouldn’t do while you were awake.
That was the beauty of them. No expectations, no embarrassment, no self-doubt.
Simply enjoy the fantasy. Something you would never allow to happen in reality.
I shoved his hand further, under the elastic band and until the tips of his fingers brushed over the crown of my cock.
I groaned.
And when his warm, strong fingers curled around my length, my hips shot forward.
“I’ll take that as your answer,” he murmured against the back of my neck, where his lips were brushing back and forth across my skin, causing goosebumps to break out everywhere.
Even though he was fisting me tightly, I kept a hold of his hand. I was afraid if he began to stroke me, I’d come right away. I gave myself a few seconds to get used to his strong grip, so unlike Dahlia’s. The size of his hand, so unlike Dahlia’s. The roughness of his palm, so unlike Dahlia’s.
So different, but yet… So much better. Or was I just wishing it was, hoping it was, so I wouldn’t feel so guilty for liking a man’s touch? Or for desperately wanting it.
Cautiously, I removed my hand from his, leaving his behind.
“Do you like me touching you, T?”
I nodded, unable to form words. I had this crazy notion that if I spoke out loud, I’d wake up and this would all disappear.
“Do you want me to do more?”
I nodded again.
His fingers squeezed me harder for a second, then loosened enough to start stroking. Slow and steady. From root to tip. The same as he was doing with his own cock in the crease of my ass. Only not as smoothly since the double-layer of fabric between us was creating friction.
For a second, I wished it wasn’t. I wanted to be skin to skin with him.
I wanted us both to be naked. For his lips to be pressed against mine. For his hands to be exploring me all over.
I didn’t know why.
I didn’t know why I wanted any of this.
This wasn’t me.
It wasn’t.
I didn’t know who I was right now.
I was no longer Tate Harris because that Tate would never want this.
A person I didn’t know wanted this. Wanted Ronan.
My heart seized when he used his other hand to grab my hair and twist my head back toward him enough so he could take my mouth.
Giving me his lips.
Giving me his tongue.
Stealing my breath.
Stealing my soul.
The fist in my hair kept me where he wanted me, while his other hand continued to pump my cock.
My hips now rocked forward to fuck his hand, backwards to feel the slide of his erection against my ass.
Back and forth.
In and out.
Then my head got jerked back even farther, straining my neck. He used the handful of my hair to roll me over as he continued to kiss me. Continued to explore my mouth like he had last night.