Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“You feel that, Journey? That’s your man taking you, pounding into your beautiful cunt and demanding what’s his. This cunt belongs to me. Say it now.”
Her hands are under my shirt, raking down my back and making my balls draw up tighter.
“My cunt belongs to Cam,” she whispers the words as I plunge into her again and again without slowing. I make her take everything my body wants to give, hammering into her without mercy.
When I reach for her clit, I only have to pet it twice before she comes with a keening cry of ecstasy. I follow after her, my cock shooting ropes of come deep into her womb. If I’m lucky, she’ll be carrying my child before the end of the week. The thought makes me want to let loose with a primal roar. This woman will take my cock every night and bare my children. She’ll always be filled with my come, her thighs smeared with it constantly.
She settles against me and I carry her into the bathroom where I clean up both of us. Then I take her into my room and help her into the bed.
“You will be here when I wake in the morning.” I smack her ass to get my point across. Her creamy skin immediately turns pink. Satisfaction goes through me. One day, I’ll pull her across my lap and spank her pretty ass for real. I’ll watch her squirm and hold her still while I paddle her then I’ll make her suck my thick cock to show me her gratitude.
She looks up at me, her eyes darkening and her pupils going wide. “Yes, Cam.”
“Good girl,” I settle in the bed next to her and pull her into my arms.
I’ve never let a woman into my bedroom. Never let anyone in here. It’s decorated in stupid posters like the periodic table and a map of Mordor. There’s even one that has the Klingon language translated. All the stuff that teenage me learned to hide.
She sighs in contentment and snuggles closer to me. Her fingertips trace across my chest and even though he just had her, my cock stiffens all over again. All this woman has to do is glance in my direction and I’m ready to pound nails.
“I like the constellations,” she says softly.
On the ceiling of my bedroom, there’s a mural of the night sky. Some of the constellations are visible in it. I searched until I found an art student whose work I like and had him paint it on there.
I don’t normally talk about this with anyone, but I want to share this part of myself with Journey. “The more I study the stars, the more I believe there has to be a heaven. If there is one, it means maybe I’ll get to see my brother again.”
“You lost him?”
“We were twins.” It’s hard to explain what it’s like to lose a sibling, especially one that was close to you. We were two sides of the same coin. We didn’t finish each other’s sentences. We didn’t have to. We could simply give each other a look and knew what the other one was thinking. I’ve never been that close to anyone since. I doubt I ever will be again. “The day he died, a part of me did too.”
“What was he like?” She hasn’t stopped stroking my chest and the little gesture is comforting me and making it easier to talk about this.
“Popular. Fit. Loved.” Everything I wasn’t. Yeah, we were twins and we looked alike in features. But we were nothing alike in body type or personality. “He was a loud, outgoing jock that people adored. I was a shy, quiet geek that was tolerated because of who my brother was.”
I knew it and he knew it too. But Clay always had my back. He was the only person who ever loved me as I was. Not even my parents gave a shit about me. They loved their quarterback son while I was the socially awkward embarrassment.
“You felt like you didn’t fit in,” Journey says.
I need to get the story out. It’s clawing at me tonight, worse than usual. “He liked to drink. It was his only vice. He’d get plastered then call me in the middle of the night to pick him up from whatever party he’d found. Even drunk though, he was still a good guy. One of those happy drunks, you know? He couldn’t be mean if he tried.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “The summer before senior year, he saved up. Sent me to this astronomy camp I’d always wanted to attend. I was away that night. Guess he thought he was sober enough to drive home on his own.”
He wrapped his car around a tree, and I wrapped myself in guilt. Even now, I still hate myself for going to that camp.