Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“But you do want it?” I ask.
Dylan shudders as though the question wears down his fight as he admits, “I want it so fucking badly I can’t think about anything else.”
“Touch me. I want you to touch me, Dylan.” I force myself to not shy away from the admission even though it makes my face burn. “I need it.”
My voice is little more than a whine and his grip stays strong as I move, spreading my thighs and using my arms still looped around his neck to help lift myself onto his lap. I can feel the hard length of his cock against me now, and my eyes flutter. I may be inexperienced, so despite Dylan’s gruffness, I trust him to guide me through this.
“Please, Dylan, please. It aches,” I whimper, hips jerking when he tugs at my hair again. I’m putty in his hands. “Make it better. I need you to make me feel better. You’re the only one who can. Please, please—”
“Fuck!” Dylan snaps, and our teeth clash as he kisses me hard. I press closer to him, loving the feel of his muscular body against mine, wild for him. “Are you wet for me, petal?”
That’s an understatement, I think as I nod against him, sparks flying along my skin as his hand slips under the waistband of my sweatpants. The material is stretchy, offering no resistance as he cups me between my legs. I gasp at his boldness.
“Does this pretty pussy need something?” he asks darkly, turning my head so he can nip at my earlobe when he speaks. My answer is a strangled moan. There’s no way I can form words right now. “God, you’re soaking, petal. Is this all for me? For just one kiss?”
I nod again, burying my face in his neck as embarrassment catches up to me. It’s not enough to stop me from pressing against his possessive touch, unsure of what to do but needing more. I want this so badly. Everything he has to give.
He chuckles at my surge of embarrassment, holding me close to him. “This is a fucking terrible idea,” he mutters, more to himself than me, before adding, “But fuck I can’t leave you like this.”
Thank God.
Once again, there’s no teasing or toying with me. No, in one movement, he tugs the damp gusset of my panties to the side and plunges a finger into me. I gasp, body clenching around the intrusion, hips bucking.
Dylan hisses, sucking in a sharp breath. “Holy shit, you’re tight. Fuck.”
The heel of his hand presses against my clit, his finger still buried inside me, and already I can feel that tight coil of warmth brighten. My body moves, hips rolling, chasing the sensation with uncoordinated desperation.
“That’s it, petal. Ride my hand. Fuck, that’s so hot,” Dylan encourages, and every word makes my mind spin. He thinks I’m hot. He wants me to use his hand for pleasure. He wants…
I moan loudly, finding a rhythm as I rock into his touch, and he adds a second finger. There’s a stretch now, but the feeling of fullness that comes with it is dizzying. I’ve never felt this kind of pleasure before, and I think I might actually die from it. It’s barely been two minutes but he curls his fingers inside me, pressing against something as I rock on him and fuck—
“Oh! Oh my—” I gasp, stuttering, head falling back and lips parting as that coil unwinds in a blissful rush.
I come hard, back bowing and eyes closing as white stars spark behind my lids. He said he wanted me to scream his name, and I can’t help but do just that. His name is the only coherent thought in my head.
“Dylan!”
My voice comes out all raspy and choked because I’m utterly seized by the bliss making me feel like I’m floating. My entire weight is pressed against him as my body goes limp, wracked by little shivers of pleasure as my pussy flutters around him. Oh god, his fingers are still inside me. Despite nearly drowning from the orgasm he just gave me, my body wants more. I want more.
I’ve never felt anything like that, and I want to make him feel the same way he made me feel. There’s something about this man, something that undoes me completely. He’s magic or something, I swear it.
“Fuck, Dahlia,” Dylan grinds out, sounding tortured.
I fight to lift my head up from his shoulder so I can search his face. Does he regret this? Oh god, I don’t think I can cope with that. I don’t want to be something he regrets. Sure, the sudden onslaught of my feelings for him—physically and emotionally—scares me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see what this is between us. Doesn’t he feel it?
“Did I…um...did I do something wrong?” I whisper, biting my lip as worry mixes with the aftershocks of pleasure.