Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Oh, my god. Yes…”
“You wet for me?”
He’s too observant not to have noticed the dark spot on my mistletoe thong.
“Yes.”
He releases my nipple and slides his hand down my abdomen, his fingers slow-dancing with the waistband of my panties. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Please.”
A little smile almost softens the hard angles of his face. “I’ll always reward honesty and politeness. Spread your legs.”
Wider? I don’t ask why, just obey. The elastic of my thong surrenders to his whims as easily as I do, giving way to his delicious invasion.
Unerringly, he finds my clit. At his first touch, I gasp and jackknife at the torrent of tingles.
He pushes me back to the bed with one hand. “You’re soaked. Perfect.”
Tracing lazy circles over my aching bundle of nerves, he props himself up on one elbow and watches me, drinking in my every reaction. His stare is unnerving. It’s intimate. But I can’t look away. I lose track of time, not to mention the number of moans and whimpers he wrings from me. My desire climbs with his every swipe over my slick, puffy flesh.
Blood rushes between my legs and pumps from my pounding heart, resounding between my ears. Something big is happening, and when this tension explodes it will blow away my definition of orgasm.
Before it seizes me, he pulls his hand free with a grin.
“No! Why did you stop?”
“Deprivation will make your release even sweeter.”
Obviously, he has no way of knowing I’ve been deprived most of my life.
“Besides, it’s the holidays,” he quips. “You can’t expect me to ignore the mistletoe.”
Is he really going to—
The question is still ripping through my thoughts when he kneels between my feet and drags me down the mattress until my ass perches at the edge. I watch, gaping, as he clamps his big hands around my ankles and positions my bare feet on the footboard. Then he shoves my knees wide and surges between with a wolfish grin.
My heart stops. Oh, shit. He’s serious.
The stranger drags his thumb up the front of my soaked thong, wrenching another gasp from me. “I have a feeling you’re going to be one of the sweetest things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
“Y-you don’t have to…”
“I do. Mistletoe. ’Tis the season and all that.” He cocks his head. “Unless you don’t like someone worshipping your pussy?”
His dark stare demands an answer, and I feel compelled to reply. “Um, I don’t know. I’ve never…”
He raises a sharp brow. “Ever?”
“My ex said going down on me was disgusting.”
The man who’s about to become my only other lover sends me an acidic smile. “You were right to dump his ass. His loss is my gain. Yours, too.”
Those words ping around my brain as he lowers his head and covers the gusset of my panties with his mouth. Through my soaked thong, he bites my flesh softly, his teeth catching the edge of my clit through the cotton. His tongue follows, taking a long swipe up the covered pad of my pussy.
Even with the underwear between us, he makes my body detonate with a flurry of tingles. “Oh!”
He backs away with a growl.
“What’s the matter?” Does he think I’m disgusting, too?
The stranger doesn’t reply, just leaps up, grabs my thong by the waist and yanks it down my legs. Once it’s off, he shoves the cotton scrap in the pocket of his slacks with another sly grin. “I’m not supposed to kiss the mistletoe, but what’s beneath it. Let’s try this again.”
He leans over me, opens his mouth, and drags his tongue through my slit. When he lingers over my most sensitive spot, I slap my palms to the mattress to brace against the pleasure. “Oh, my god!”
With his lips wrapped around my clit, he chuckles. The vibrations, coupled with his touch, melt all hints of my resistance. My body stops obeying me to chase the incredible sensations. My back arches. My hips lift as I twist to get closer. Sweat breaks out across my forehead. My heart jolts and pounds as he methodically unravels me with his tongue. As if that’s not enough, he shoves a pair of blunt fingers inside me and thrusts them into me, slow and hard. As tingles build and I moan, he shifts his digits, curling them up and hitting a mysterious spot that has me gasping and begging.
“That’s it.” He slides his tongue between my slick folds, lingering on my clit with a hum of delight. “That’s my girl. You’re this close to coming for me.”
It’s not a question. He knows. He understands my body better than I do.
“Yes…”
Jen always said I should indulge in self-love more, both to make up for Eric’s lack of prowess and to understand my body. But life in college dorms and living with my ex, who rarely left his apartment, never gave me privacy. If touching myself felt half as good as this stranger driving me to soaring heights, then I’ve definitely been missing out. Eric never made me feel like this. Hell, he never even tried.