Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to say something, but the words get lost behind a soft moan as Vance tugs on my panties. He hasn’t pulled them down completely, not yet, enjoying the view of my slick pussy. Not that my poor excuse of underwear is doing much to block his view.
“Anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you are?” he asks, making my temperature spike to feverish levels.
“Not as many as you’d think,” I answer honestly. And it’s not out of want for pity. It’s just that most men use different verbiage to describe me—hot, sexy, and one time, I even got fuckable piece of ass.
I think most men just have very different interests than Vance does. And I’m liking his way more than I ever imagined I would.
“Do I need to apologize for the whole male species again?” His voice is distant, almost as if it’s trailing off to the farthest points of the globe.
I throw my head over my shoulders to find out why and see him staring straight between my legs. Yeah, that makes total sense. Trying his darndest to be flirtatious but stuck in place at the sight of what he could be doing instead.
“If I said yes, how would you do it?” Butterflies explode in my tummy with the question. Is there any other answer than what’s coming? Definitely not.
But Vance subverts my expectations, and instead of pulling my panties down and stabbing me with the rock-hard slab tenting his boxers, he starts walking around the table again.
He grabs one of the many fancy bottles of oils and lotions on a small table next to the massage bed and squirts some into the palm of his hand. “It isn’t much, but I can ease some of the tension we must have caused.”
“You’re doing a saint’s job then,” I tease, doing my best to sound playful while my whole body practically vibrates in anticipation of what Vance will do next.
“On your belly,” he orders, and I obey, resting my head on my arms and shutting my eyes.
He smashes his palms together, and the first few drops of the liquid fall onto my back. The cool sensation trickling down my skin makes me shiver, but Vance has already started rubbing his hands together to warm them and the oil.
“It must be hard.” His slick fingertips brush against my skin. “Having, what? Half the population be so blind. So foolish.” He gathers whatever remnants of the trickle down my sides he can, coating my back in liquid and easing me into his touch. “But never fear, not while I’m here.” He walks his fingers across my skin. Soft at first, but the higher they climb, so too does the pressure he’s applying. “I’m going to make it all better.”
The electrifying jolt his touch sends through my body is indescribable—an intense rush of desire and need for more. More of this, more of him, more of everything. Every part of me wants to be right here and accept what he’s doing while simultaneously desperate to move on to what comes next. It’s a total mixed bag of emotions and feelings, and my brain can’t keep up.
So, I won’t try to. Instead, I purr a soft, satisfied hum and let Vance work his magic. Depending on where his hands fall, Vance continues adjusting his pressure. Harder on the upper back, but gentler the lower he goes. And like magic, all the tension in my body escapes with a soft sigh.
I jump when his fingers press into a pressure point on my side, and an involuntary giggle escapes. He does it again, and this time, I laugh out loud, fighting off the fingers pressing into my overly sensitive sides.
“Too much?” he asks in a husky whisper as he starts to circle the table again, stopping at my feet.
“Not at all. I’m just ticklish.” I don’t look up, nor do I flinch when I feel his hands brush against the soles of my feet, testing my weak spots. Unluckily for him, he found the only one I had early.
“I’ll have to remember that,” he says cheekily. I’d scowl at him if I weren’t feeling so damn relaxed. “But for now, I’ve got other plans.”
“Like what?”
“This.” He grabs my ankles, using them to part my legs. When they reach his ideal position, a choked noise emits from his mouth. I don’t need to see him to know what caused the sound—a thin strip of cotton acting as a barrier between me and him.
His fingers knead their way up my calves, past the back of my knee, and stop on my ass. He digs them in there, as if making some final stand, while another wave of sounds erupts out of him, eagerness on display. After a firm squeeze, Vance works his way up to the waistband of my panties and grabs it in two tight fists.