Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
“Yes… yes… please keep talking. Don’t stop, I’m almost there.”
He seductively smiled. I loved dirty talk as much as I loved sucking cock. I knew a lot of women wouldn’t understand that, but to literally be able to bring a man to his knees by the power of your mouth… yeah. Amazing.
“You’re a dirty, little girl, aren’t you? You want me to whisper dirty things in your ear as I fuck you, huh? Tell you how fucking wet you feel and how much I love it when your pussy is throbbing on the tip of my dick… squeezing me so fucking tight; your needy little cunt won’t stop… it wants more.”
“Oh, Devon, fuck yeah… yes…”
“You want to be a good girl? You want to be my little good girl and come for me when I tell you to?”
I was so close to coming apart; I could hear the slippery sound of my fingers rubbing against me.
“Tell me what I want to hear… you know the word,” he tormented and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
“Oh God… please… please…” I shamelessly begged, exactly how he wanted me to.
“Fuck yourself hard and take your other hand and rub it back and forth on your bright, pink clit, that’s just waiting to be touched.”
I did as I was told and moaned louder.
“I’m going to come, I’m going to come…” I repeated over and over. “Devon… Devon… Devon…” I breathed out and he made this sound from deep in the back of his throat, which made me open my eyes. I watched with a hooded gaze as his dick exploded all over his stomach. It was the most erotic, passionate experience to come at the same time and we didn’t even touch each other.
We both lay there, panting and breathing rapidly. I placed my hand over my heart to try to steady the beating.
“That was random,” I announced, laughing.
“Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’m not complaining.”
“You know we’re doing this all backward.”
“I like to break the rules, keeps things interesting.”
“I see that.”
“So what next?”
“What do you mean?”
“When do I get to see you again?”
My eyebrows lowered and I bit at my cheek. “I go back to work tomorrow, Devon.”
He was quiet for what seemed like hours and I waited for him to say something… anything; I was on pins and needles.
“How often do you work?” he finally spoke.
“I usually get a few days off a month.”
“Wow, that much?”
“No sleep for the wicked…” I teased to no avail.
“When is your next day off?”
“In a few weeks. It’s not like I get a schedule ahead of time,” I simply stated.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t,” I argued. “I told you, Devon, this is what I do… and I love it. If we’re going to be frie—”
“Goodnight, Bambi. We will talk soon,” he interrupted not wanting to hear anymore.
I nodded. “Good night.”
He hung up and it ended our call. I looked all around my room and for the first time since I started VIP, I wished someone were lying beside me.
Not someone…
Devon.
TWENTY-SEVEN
<>B<>
Three weeks went by and he texted me good morning and good night every day. He always asked me if I made it home okay and wanted to make sure that I had the door locked. I kept insisting that I had security guards, but he insisted it didn’t matter. In the morning he wanted to know how I slept and if I was ready for the day. At first I thought he was doing it to be cute and a nice guy, but after the first week or so, I knew he did it because he was genuinely concerned that I was safe.
I also subconsciously knew that he wanted to be the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep, and the first thing I thought about when I woke up. And it was working; he was consuming my thoughts. I started looking forward to waking up to his text messages, and laying my head on my pillow to his good nights. He always texted late enough that I was already home. I knew it was partially from him knowing that I would be home late, and the other part was from him working late as well.
I missed him.
I missed him, a lot.
Our text messages sometimes turned into phone conversations that would go late into the night. We would Skype occasionally and we usually talked about nothing in particular; even though he asked about everything. I hadn’t disclosed any more information about myself, since the night I told him about my father. I still didn’t know why I shared that with him, other than I wanted him to know a part of me.
I thought he would run and maybe I did it as a test…
He passed with flying colors, as always.