Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes darkening with desire, but her glare deepens as she tries to rein herself in, to stay in control. “Bossy much?”
“You have no idea.”
Air whooshes past her lips when I unclip the shit along her thighs, the rough pads of my fingertips enticing her silky skin from nothing but the contact. I’d bet she’s used to smooth, unworked hands touching her. Hands that are used to lotion and don’t touch more than pens and paper. The green kind.
Unhappy with my pace, she tears her shirt over her head, revealing a bra the same shade as her sunbathed skin. “And in four minutes and fifteen seconds, no one else will either.”
A gruff laugh leaves me, and I unbuckle my belt, freeing myself from my jeans. Her chin begins to dip, but my right hand flies up, catching it between my fingers before she can peek.
“You don’t get to look.”
Her brow quirks. “Afraid I’ll judge?”
Yanking her ass to the edge, I dig a condom from my wallet, stuff it back in my pocket, and tear the package open with my teeth. “More like beg to taste.” I keep her chin in my grasp as I roll it on and then jerk forward, pressing the tip of my dick to the triangle of her panties. “But there’s no time for that.”
A scoffed laugh escapes her, but then I press harder, and she hisses.
She feels it, the cool, smooth circles stretching against the rubber trapping them in. Her eyes widen, the muscles of her jaw fighting to be freed from my hold, but like I said, I have no intention of giving her a glimpse.
Maybe if she was a good girl and hadn’t hit the alarm, I would.
If she were a good girl, we wouldn’t be where we are …
She can drive herself mad, wondering what it was she felt sliding along her insides later.
Reaching between us, I pull the thin cloth aside. She cheats, swiftly swiping her thumb down, the tip brushing along my swollen head before I can fully buck my hips away, but she doesn’t cop a single feel of the jewelry there, and I know that’s what she was hoping for.
Her shoes slide slightly down my shoulder blades until the pointed spikes dig into the space just below my collarbone. She’ll leave a mark for sure, and something tells me that’s her intention.
I ease into her a few inches and her back bows, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders. I push the rest of the way in, following with slow, solid thrusts, and she pushes, her ass smashing against my dangling belt to match my pace. She’s battling for dominance she won’t gain, but I won’t tell her that and ruin the fun.
Leaning forward, I put pressure on her legs. “Come on now, little thief.” I skate my fingers along her outer thighs. “You can go wider for me.”
Instantly, her legs fall wide open, her hips lifting, willing me deeper while keeping her heels pressed into my skin. I groan, my fingertips stretching along her waist and down to dig into her ass. I swear I’m in her fucking stomach now, a barrier reached, and I prod against it, over and over. She’s full to the max, stretched so good around me, and when I adjust my hips the slightest bit, tipping them a little to the left, her back flies off the furniture.
“There it is,” I groan, keeping my position, my dick rubbing along her walls, working her G-spot and this girl, she starts fucking dancing.
Straight up dancing, eyes closed, hips spinning in a circle, ass lifting off the seat and coming down just as fast, rolling in a crazy eight-like pattern. She doesn’t lose her pace, doesn’t stop pressing against me. She keeps moving, taking my cock like a champ as she chases her orgasm. And good for fucking her. She should since she hasn’t a clue if I’ll give it to her.
I will. But what she doesn’t know is it won’t be until the very last second when she starts to wonder if her earlier guess about selfishness is true. It ain’t.
There’s no fun to be had if the female isn’t in it. I never would have touched her if I didn’t sense how much she wanted me to. What’s the point of fucking someone who’s only out to make you feel good when you can do that shit on your own without the risks?
Real pleasure comes into play when you show your partner how well you can.
When she’s gasping and panting and begging. When she’s hooked.
My blood boils in pure approval at the thought of hooking a woman the likes of her.
What a sight we must be right now, a ritzy, pretty thing laid out, a dirtbag with dried blood and grease slicked on his hands standing over her, railing her perfectly pink pussy while she tangos on my rock-hard cock.