Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Chapter Eight
“Damn,” I say, noticing the filthy wet patch on the neon green streak on his rug. “What a naughty guest I am.”
Josh smirks. “Welcome to Belgravia. We’ll do the same in your place as soon as you get the keys.”
I hitch myself up with a grimace, running my fingers between my ass cheeks to investigate the full extent of the carnage. Hmm. I’m a bit of a mess. His barbells got me good.
I look up at him, and he’s examining his cock, but he isn’t in the slightest bit fazed by the state of it.
“We’d better get you to the bathroom,” he says, “Don’t move. I’ll help you up.”
“It’s ok,” I tell him, “I’m just a little tender.”
“Tender? That’s one word for it.”
“Big girls don’t cry.” I wink. “I’m sure I’ll be ok,” I say and it’s so weird as he laughs. The hardcore is behind us for now, and he’s back to his regular charming, fun self. He’s just ploughed my ass with a Jacob’s ladder so hard that I’m bleeding, and his cock is covered in filth, but now, in a flash, he’s just the same guy he was at the restaurant.
He’s beyond awesome. And so caring, too.
I give him a reassuring grin until I try to get to my feet, crying out as I drop back to the floor. It’s not just my ass that feels like it’s been torn to shreds, my pussy is aching like a bitch, too. I knew it would be painful, but talk about strained muscles. Mine are cramping to fuck.
“Big girls do cry,” Josh says. “Anyone who’s been ploughed that hard and taken it like a filthy trooper can cry all they like.” He steps on over to me. “Right, here we go,” he says, and he handles me so carefully, his hands under my arms as he eases me up from the floor. He switches to my waist when I’m almost standing, holding my weight as I press against his side. Oh my God, I’m going to be shuffling along like a penguin. I try to avoid the penguin shuffle by giving a full step a shot, but Josh holds me back with a woah.
“Don’t rush. Too much, too soon!”
Ha! His words make me grin. If only he knew how many times I’ve thought them.
“I’m going to have to suck it up to get to the bathroom anyway, so I might as well get on with it. I’ll pray to the gods of super-soft toilet roll every step of the way.”
“No,” he says. “You don’t have to suck it up.”
With that, he scoops me into his arms, taking the pressure off my legs. The burn is still there as I wrap my arms around his neck, but it’s so much easier like this.
I relax in his strong arms as he crosses the apartment and kicks open the bathroom door.
He starts up the shower while he’s still holding me. I’ve almost forgotten how sore I am until he tells me to brace myself and lowers me down onto the toilet.
Owww.
“Thanks,” I say once I settle onto the seat.
“For toilet roll?” he replies with a smirk as he pulls some from the roller.
I take it from him. “Thanks, Josh. It’s nice to be so cared for.”
His stunning green eyes are brighter than usual under the bathroom spotlights. Addictive.
“No. Thank you,” he says. “It’s great to be with someone who isn’t so entitled they expect it without so much as a thought.”
I think I’ll be fine now, but a gentle wipe of the toilet paper between my legs makes me wince.
“You’ve probably pulled some muscles,” he says, like a doctor as he squats and eases my legs open. “Maybe we were a tad overzealous.”
“I don’t give a shit about pulled muscles. The heat was insane.”
“Yes,” he says. “It was.”
He helps me lift my dress up and over my head, and crouches back down in front of me as I take a pee. He doesn’t even blink as he gently wipes me clean after.
“Ready for the shower?”
“God yes.”
I’m a bit steadier this time when he helps me to my feet, and it feels like steamy bliss under the running water. What a view as I watch Josh strip naked and step in beside me. It’s lovely to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, and so natural when he soaps his hands up with shower gel and washes me down. His fingers on my shoulders are so skilled it feels like a massage, and I relish every second – even when he spins me around and addresses the state of my ass, spreading my cheeks apart to let the water flow wash me down.
“Bend over,” he says.
He kneels behind me to get a better view, using the shower foam to clean the wreckage he’s left behind, but it’s easing now. Under the warmth of the water, everything is easing.