Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
He shifted his grip on my body, maneuvering me as effortlessly as a doll. Suddenly, I found myself staring at the hardwood floor, my hips folded over his knees.
“Hey!” I tried to push myself up, but he grasped my wrists and pinned them at the small of my back. His grip was as careful with me as ever, but his hand might as well have been an iron shackle for all the chance I had of breaking free.
“What are you doing?” I objected, squirming over his lap.
His other hand rested on my thigh, his huge palm pressing just beneath my ass. His t-shirt provided a flimsy barrier, but I felt his thick thumb push down on my tender flesh. If he shifted half an inch, he’d penetrate the juncture between my legs. His fingers flexed, and I stilled on a gasp.
“I’m going to spank you now,” he told me, his voice calm and deep.
“But you promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” I protested weakly.
“This won’t hurt you,” he assured me. “It will sting, and you’ll ache after, but it won’t hurt you.”
His hand shifted on my thigh, his fingertips teasing beneath the hem of his shirt. In this position, it fell to the backs of my knees, but when he started easing the fabric upward, I stiffened.
He paused his progress, stroking the few inches of flesh he’d exposed. “I’m not going to do anything other than spank you. I won’t touch you in any other way. Not unless you ask me to.”
I bit my lip, torn. I didn’t want him to see my thighs. I didn’t want him to ask about the scars.
But I didn’t want to stop him, either. If I tried, he would definitely ask more questions, and then he’d find out about my scars, anyway.
As wrestled with what to say, he continued to pet me. Something long and hard jerked against my belly.
I bucked on his lap, gasping in shock. I’d felt boys’ erections before. I might be a virgin, but I enjoyed making out.
None of those boys had felt remotely like Mateo.
He was big everywhere.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been a few seconds ago. “I’m not going to try anything. I want you, Sofia, but I’m in control of my actions. I swear I won’t force myself on you.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. How many times had I fantasized about Mateo being the one to take my virginity?
But this was different. In my fantasies, I didn’t have scars. I didn’t have shameful marks on my body.
My mind churned, searching for a way to get through this without Mateo finding out about the scars.
They’re just on the front, I reasoned. If he lifted the hem of the shirt farther, he would only see the backs of my legs. And if I kept them pressed together, there was no way he’d see the mark on the inside of my left thigh.
“Okay,” I whispered, giving him my consent to continue.
He worked slowly, easing the soft cotton over my skin. The cool air on my bare flesh made me shiver. Or maybe that was just Mateo. I felt all hot and shivery at the same time again. It made me a little lightheaded, my thoughts going fuzzy until all I could focus on was the sensation of his hands on my body.
By the time the fabric bunched at my lower back, my skin was pebbled, and I was practically quivering.
He trailed his fingertips beneath my bare bottom, exploring the shape of my curves. His hard cock pressed into my belly: a stark contrast to his gentle, reverent touch.
The warmth in my body pooled between my legs, creating liquid heat. A strange, musky scent I’d never smelled before teased through the air. Whatever it was, it made him groan and shift his cock against me.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he said, his voice rough with desire and awe. “More perfect than I could have ever imagined.”
My cheeks flamed, and I squeezed my legs together, hiding my glaring imperfections from him. I never wanted him to see the ugly marks, not when he spoke to me as though I was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.
He started petting me, rubbing his palm over my ass. “Relax,” he soothed me.
Despite my worries about him seeing my scars, the tension eased from my body as he continued to stroke me. The liquid heat between my legs grew slicker, and my sex began to pulse in time with my heartbeat. My back arched without conscious thought, offering myself into his hands.
I wanted more. I reveled in the heady pleasure elicited by his fingers on my flesh, but somehow, the delicious sensation made me even needier. I didn’t understand what was happening to my body, but I craved…more.