Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Riley first, I remind myself. And maybe second, if I can hold back long enough.
But given how on-edge I am, that’s a big demand. The devil on my shoulder suggests getting her off quickly, but no, I want to torture her the way I’ve tortured myself, not as punishment, but to make the reward all the sweeter.
You'd think I’d have learned by now that planning doesn’t matter. Life happens, regardless of whatever you plan, and when I move back toward her clit and slide the barest inch of my finger between her lips, she shatters instantly. Spasms rack through her, and I have to fight to keep my tongue on her as she desperately cries out for more.
I give her what she demands, fingering her deeper and faster. The sound of her slickness fills the room, her taste covers my tongue, and still she gives me more. I don’t know if she’s coming again or still coming, but I curl my finger forward, petting the spot on her front wall, and she jerks wildly. I push her back against the counter, one hand planted on her lower stomach to hold her in place, and flutter my tongue over her clit. The onslaught to her body sends a rush of fluid gushing over my hand and dripping to the floor beneath us.
“What…” she gasps, but I don’t stop. I might never stop.
“More.” This time, it’s my demand. My pleasure can wait, because I’ve become an instant addict to Riley’s.
Her legs are quivering, her feet shuffling, and she’s tapping my shoulder like she’s surrendering in the ring. I hold her securely, keeping her upright and keeping her lips spread open for me. Fuck, they’re gonna look so good wrapped around my cock. I press a soft kiss to the right and then the left, silently promising to take care of them after I fuck Riley roughly, because that’s all I’m going to be capable of. She’s driven me to utter madness and I want to rut at her like an animal.
I’ve never felt this way. With anyone. Ever.
Sex is great. It always has been. But this all-encompassing need to give Riley pleasure, to make her explode over and over before savagely filling her with my cock until the creaminess of my cum is leaking from her tight pussy is new.
No, it’s not.
The whisper in my mind makes me lose my rhythm as I lick her battered clit. The truth is, Riley has brought forth this primal side of me before—when I chased her in the back yard. It’s been building since then. Hell, maybe before then. Every fantasy I’ve had of fucking her in this kitchen, of smacking her ass and leaving my handprint on her skin, of claiming her mouth with my cum… it’s all images I’ve only ever pictured with Riley.
Gritting my teeth, I grunt. “Fuck, I need—”
“You,” Riley breathes, finishing my sentence as she pushes me away and urges me to stand.
She’s nude and annoyingly, I’m still completely dressed. I rip at my shirt, trying to get it off instantly, and resort to slipping the button-up shirt over my head before throwing it God only knows where. While I’m jerking my belt undone, Riley’s hands explore my chest.
“I’ve wanted to touch you so many times,” she whispers. Her nails score over my nipples, bringing them to hard points, and she licks a circle around one, then the other. All the while, I’m struggling with both my shoes and my zipper. I slide my underwear down with my slacks, and as I step out of both, I rip my socks off too. When I stand up, Riley’s eyes are locked onto my cock, which is leaking pre-cum and purple-red with need. “I’ve wanted this.”
She wraps her hand around my length, and a groan rumbles deep in my chest at how good it feels. My eyes try to close, but I force them to stay open, wanting to see the reality of her hand on me as much as I’ve seen it in my mind. She gives me a slow stroke, tip to base and back again, and her bracelets make a musical sound that makes me smile. “Fuck, Riley. I can’t wait much longer,” I confess, feeling like it’s a shameful admission.
“Then don’t,” she purrs, hunger of her own in her eyes. “I’m protected.”
Honestly, I hadn’t thought of that. I’m not the type who keeps condoms in his wallet, but I think there’s a box of them in a bathroom drawer. They’re probably expired and I hadn’t even considered going for one. I want Riley bare, want to feel her walls wrapped around me, and want to fill her with my cum.
But I don’t want another child. Not tonight. Maybe never. I’ve never considered it. Because I never dreamed I’d meet someone like Riley. She breaks down all my defensive walls, lets me see her trauma too, but makes the painfulness of the past seem like something we can let go of without succumbing to survivor’s guilt. She makes it not only acceptable, but expected, to smile again and welcome happiness.