Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He pushes his hand down over my core through the material, the helicopter’s vibration making his hand judder against me.
I bite down, my pussy hot and leaking, soaking through my panties and pants, everything fixated on the feeling.
We didn’t touch yesterday, kiss, or do anything.
It all comes bursting out now.
“Do you want to know what I was thinking when you were doing your sexy little dance?”
“Yes,” I moan, finding it so easy to sink into the lust.
“I was thinking how I needed to walk up behind you, tear your trousers down, and slip my cock straight into your pussy. Because I know my dick would already be wet with precome, and your hot virgin slit would already be soaked for me like you are now. I can feel how hot you are through this.”
He rubs his hand up and down my pussy, with enough pressure that I can feel it right against my clit and lips.
The helicopter thrums with more force beneath me, adding to the motion of his hand, all of it rushing through me.
I stare at the tarmac, the emptiness like we’re the only people in the world.
More moans escape me.
“I’d take you hard and passionately. I’d pound your young pussy until you were creaming all over my dick.”
My clit pulses, my head rushing, as an orgasm simmers deep inside.
It’s like my core has been waiting all week, ever since his apartment, screaming out for a release.
“I’d wait until you were almost done, then let my seed explode right in your pussy. I’d come deep inside of you, Lauren, so deep. I’d also come for a long time in your sweet virgin hole. You’d take every last drop, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” I gasped, wishing it was happening now, almost able to feel his seed sliding up inside me. “I want that–ah–so–badly.”
I grab onto his arm when the orgasm slams into me, the helicopter shaking at its most now, or maybe it’s just the release.
Silas’ hand moves rapidly, grinding my pussy, as I shift my hips, chasing the pleasure with more confidence than I ever dreamed I’d have.
He makes me confident.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry, letting the pleasure fly….
And then we’re flying.
I yell as we rise from the ground, but Silas only laughs.
“Keep moving your hips like that,” he says firmly.
He pushes against my pussy again. My breath catches when I feel something else tickling from deep within, then rush forward, fueled by the motion of the helicopter.
A second orgasm makes my eyes water as I stare at the water below us, the city receding, everything getting smaller as my man guides the stick with one hand and rubs my pussy with another.
I do as he says, moving my hips, not that I have much choice.
It’s like my body works on autopilot when he rubs like that with so much primal force.
“Right in my pussy,” I yell, moving against him.
“Every drop,” he says huskily. “Deep in your virgin hole. The only dick you’ve ever felt. The only one you want.”
“Yes, y….”
I can’t speak as the orgasm shudders to its climax, causing me to slump in my seat, drawing in a breath as Silas slowly removes his hand.
He looks at the open sky but then glances at me with a smirk. But it’s tight, like he’s struggling to hold himself back.
It’s a look I’m familiar with by now.
With the heat of the orgasm rushing through me, I’m not ashamed to say I know when my man wants me.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Silas
As I fly the helicopter toward the private runway, surging over the countryside, I think about what my woman said when she was shifting so sexily against my hand.
She moaned that she wanted me to come right in her pussy. She must know what that means, that there’s a chance we get what we’ve both talked about.
Kids, a family, a future…with each other.
She looks over, her cheeks flushed, her brown hair down and gorgeously messy as it spills out beneath the headset. She’s got that look in her eyes, slightly panicked, alert, like she’s waiting for something.
Waiting for me to tell her this means so much more?
Or waiting for me to do the right thing, take control, and end us before we get even more obsessed?
Possessed?
“When did you learn to do this?” she asks.
“I got my license five years ago. I started taking lessons as soon as I had enough money. It was something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Freedom,” she murmurs.
I meet her eyes, smiling briefly. She’s the only one who can connect to my childhood and offer that specific understanding.
“I’m surprised you still want to associate with a sleepwalking lunatic.”
“Hey.” She reaches over and touches my forearm gently. “I know you’re kidding, but don’t say stuff like that. You had it tough, and you made something of yourself. You should be proud. I’m proud of you.”