Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
prologue
A very good girl…
“Good girl…” His deep voice vibrates my ribs as he kisses his way between my breasts, making my nipples tighten into aching points that beg for his touch.
But I don’t make a sound. He told me to be quiet until I come, and I’m determined to show him I can play this game.
I can play it better than anyone he’s played with before because I’ve had so much practice. In a strange way, it feels like my entire life has been leading up to this moment.
I’ve always been a “good girl.”
When Samantha George pulled the other kids aside in third grade to tell them about S-E-X, I hid under the slide with my hands over my ears. In high school, while the cool girls slipped up to the roof to smoke cigarettes, I headed to the library to squeeze in extra study time.
I’ve never skipped class, played sick to get out of a social obligation, or paraphrased a source in a paper that wasn’t credited in my bibliography. I don’t speed, waited until I was twenty-one to have my first glass of wine, and have my holiday cards written a full month in advance every year. I graduated college with a 4.15, made the honor roll every semester, and won multiple “outstanding campus citizen” and “environmental ally” awards along the way.
But no matter how many awards I’ve won or benchmarks I’ve hit; I’ve never felt good enough. There was always another rung on the ladder, another goal to achieve, another person working even harder than I was, making me ashamed of myself for thinking I’d achieved anything at all.
There was always my father, standing on the sidelines, looking unimpressed, no matter how hard I tried…
It isn’t until this moment, with a near stranger’s mouth between my legs, driving me wild as he tells me how sweet I taste and what a good job I’m doing at staying silent that I finally feel like I’ve made it.
I’m not just a good girl, I’m the best girl.
I’m a champion of erotic endurance who comes with a silent scream as the sexiest man I’ve ever met curls two fingers deep inside me.
“Yes, Sydney,” he murmurs. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come. So perfect, so wet.” He curses again, this time beneath his breath. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Can you feel how you’re drenching my hand, butterfly?”
I press my lips more tightly together, refusing to do so much as moan until he’s given me permission, even if the sight of him rising between my legs, his cock a thick column behind the fabric of his boxer briefs, makes a hundred needy sounds rise in my throat.
“Tell me, baby. You can talk,” he says. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I gasp as I reach for his chest. “Yes, please.”
He pulls his boxers down around his thighs, and I get my first good look at his cock. It’s long and thicker than any I’ve seen before, with a plush mushroom top that I find completely…beautiful.
I’ve never found a penis beautiful before.
Interesting, yes. Amusing? Also yes, thanks to my high school boyfriend’s slightly crooked one and a bad case of “first time on third base” jitters.
But this man’s body is so much more than interesting and not the slightest bit amusing. When he whispers, “Spread your legs for me. Show me every inch of you,” I don’t hesitate for a second.
I obey, and he rewards me with a husky, “Good girl,” that has me on the verge of coming a second time, even before he slides on the condom and grips the thick base of his cock.
In that moment, I know I’ll never think of that phrase the same way again.
And that I very much want to be this man’s very good girl…
one
Sydney Perry-Watson
A woman about to meet
the most forbidden, off-limits man…
A few hours earlier…
“My turn! My turn! I get to pick the book this time.” Elaina, my best friend in Sea Breeze, Maine, plops down on the overstuffed couch beside me in her cozy café.
Instantly, three cats vie for the chance at her lap.
Most of the kitties at Sweet Pussy Cat Café are up for adoption, but it’s hard to imagine any of them willingly leaving Elaina’s side. She’s not just their mama, she’s their fairy godmother and cat-whisperer extraordinaire.
I swear, the woman speaks feline, a fact she proves by making a soothing sound low in her throat that sends two of the cats scurrying off to play, while the smallest, a black cat named Maybe, leaps onto the couch beside her.
She swoops the tiny beast into her arms and cuddles him close, setting off a surprisingly deep purr that makes the rest of us smile.
“Aw, he’s such a lover,” Maya coos from the couch across from ours, where she’s stroking Pudge, a giant orange tabby who’s busy falling asleep on her lap.