Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I gasp, shocked by his words. Although I can’t deny the need they stir within me.
“Answer me,” he demands.
“Y-yes,” I admit, my cheeks flushing with heat at telling him the truth.
My breath catches again when his finger touches my skin. He runs one tip along the edge of the lace.
My breathing turns ragged as I try to drag in the air I need.
“Did you imagine me doing it to you? My fingers inside you, my tongue against your clit?”
Holy shit, where’s the sweet boy I used to know gone? He’d never talk to me with such dirty words. It’s hot. So fucking hot.
He closes the space between us once more and his fingers trail around to my front, still tracing my panties.
All the muscles below my waist clench as anticipation fills me.
“Yes,” I breathe, unable to find the strength to say it out loud.
“Fuck.”
One of his hands fists my hair, pulling my head to the side to expose my neck.
“Spencer,” I moan when his nose runs up the sensitive skin all the way to my ear.
“Sssh, my little mouse.”
“Oh god,” I moan at hearing the name he used to call me as a kid. I never thought I’d hear it again.
Tears burn my eyes but the heat that’s surging around my body is more pressing.
He brushes his lips down my neck, his tongue sneaking out to taste my skin and my knees go weak.
Reaching out, I place a hand on the wall to steady myself.
“Are you wet for me?”
My brain damn near backfires as he tucks his fingers inside the lace of my panties.
“Answer me,” he breathes in my ear causing my entire body to erupt in goose bumps.
“Y-yes. Please, Spencer. Please,” I shamelessly beg.
“Please what? Remind you how good it can be?”
“Yes, yes,” I cry as he pushes down.
His fingers part me, finding my soaked center and he groans in my ear. He circles my clit once before dropping lower and teasing my entrance.
“I never got to claim this.”
“Jesus, Spencer.” I want to sound shocked by his words but my voice just comes out sounding needy.
“Maybe I should before I make you my wife. It’s long overdue, don’t you think?”
He tucks a finger inside me, and I sag back against him at the sensation. His other hand runs up my stomach until he takes my bare breast in his hand.
Another growl rumbles up his throat.
“Please,” I whisper as he continues playing me with his skilled fingers.
One second I’m heading toward release and the next, my feet have left the floor and we’re moving.
He lowers me to the mattress laying on the floor. I sit in the middle with my shirt around my waist and watch as he peels his own up his body.
Fuuuuuk.
The Spencer I remember has definitely transformed into a man.
My eyes feast on his exposed torso, following the lines of his muscles all the way down to the waistband of his pants.
I watch his fingers as he works his belt and he toes off his shoes before dropping his pants and kicking them to the corner of the room.
I expect him to go for his boxer briefs that aren’t really leaving all that much to the imagination, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops to his knees and pushes me until I lie back, resting on my elbows so I can watch him.
His fingers wrap around the lace at my hips and he pulls them off, throwing them over his shoulder. His eyes zero in on my newly waxed core before flicking back up to mine briefly.
If I thought he looked wild out in the hallway, it was nothing compared to right now.
With his rough hands against my thighs, he pushes my legs wide and moves forward.
The second his tongue connects with me, I cry out, my back hits the mattress and my hands slide into his hair to keep him in place.
“Oh, shit. Spencer.”
He ups the pressure before adding one finger and then another to stretch me open.
I feel like he’s barely started, but my release races forward at a speed I can’t control. Long before I’m ready, I’m crying out his name as I explode on his face.
My chest heaves and my skin is covered in a sheen of sweat when he pulls back and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Our eyes connect once more, silent words being said between us.
I expect him to do more, to touch me, to ask me to return the favor, anything. But in reality, all he does is stand and march from the room.
He slams the bathroom door with such force that the entire house shakes.
I’m still sitting in the middle of his makeshift bed when he returns. His hair is a mess, his eyes blown and his boxers still tented but he doesn’t do or say anything other than to lift the sheets beside me and climb in.