Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Then obey me,” Ghost interrupts. “I’m telling you to touch yourself.” When my hands remain balled at my side, he murmurs, “Don’t make me repeat myself, маленький ягненок. It never ends well.”
My exhales add to the humidity in the room when I lift my hand to my breast and squeeze it. It feels okay, but it has nothing on the zap that roared through me when Ghost stuffed his finger inside me, so I travel my other hand down to the apex at the top of my thighs.
“Do you really want to ruin your new nightwear?” Ghost asks when I trace my fingertips over the opening of my vagina.
When I shake my head, he murmurs, “Then lift it out of the way.”
I’m desperate to check if the curtain over the window is open, to work out how he can see me so easily when I’m seeing nothing but blackness, but since that means I’d have to look at him again, I can’t. I must keep my eyes front and center.
“What was that?” he asks when a faint murmur purrs between my lips.
I bit my lower lip to hold back my moan when my finger rolls over my sensitive clit, but the sensation was too blistering to ignore.
“No-nothing. I didn’t say anything.”
“Mm-hmm…” His reply pushes him stroking his cock back into the forefront of my head, and it has my fingers venturing over my vagina with more eagerness. I roll my clit with my thumb while smearing the wetness below it with my index and middle finger. I haven’t been brave enough to inch inside myself yet, but just the bit of attention on my clit is sufficient.
“Don’t stop,” Ghost demands when the quiver of my legs resurfaces my nerves. “It’s meant to feel like that. Naughty, dirty, but oh so fucking good.” He scoots closer until the heat of his body makes mine slick with sweat. “Think back to the lady in the cube. Her moans, her pleasure, then pretend it’s happening to you.”
I shake my head. I don’t want those memories. I have a far more enticing visual keeping my blood hot. The images of Ghost stroking his cock while using my damp panties as his excuse to get off. I didn’t think about it until now that the stares he gave weren’t for a random woman. He was eyeing my panties, as mesmerized by the dampness as I was ashamed about it.
“Now dip your fingers a little bit. You don’t have to push them in deep, but they’ll give your cunt something to cling to while it builds the wave.”
“Like this?” I ask, my voice husky from learning how wet his command made me. It feels as if I forgot to dry after getting out of the shower.
He scoots even closer, so close strands of my hair drying in the humidity cling to his facial hair. “A little deeper.” The shakiness of my legs moves up to my stomach when he murmurs, “And curl the tips.” When he hears the faintest moan creep out of my lips, he curses like he did earlier. “Fuck.” Bedsheets shuffle as he barks out, “Keep your eyes to the front. You move them, I’ll cut off your fingers so you can never experience such pleasure again. Do you understand?”
I only bob my chin once, but it fills Ghost with so much assurance that I will follow his every command, his fist whacks the touch light above our cabin bed, illuminating our room in an artificial glow.
“Use the pad of your palm, then you don’t have to strain your thumb so much to reach your clit.” His accent is thicker now, more husky. “Circular movements. You’re not trying to push your clit back inside yourself.”
A pleasing zap surges through my pussy when he stuffs his hand under my naked backside and lifts it off the mattress. It only adds the littlest tilt to my hips, but the pleasure it entices is unexplainable. I shudder uncontrollably as a blistering of lights form in front of my eyes.
“Don’t stop,” Ghost commands again. “Keep going.”
When rustling bedsheets sound through my ears again, I break the rules. I look. Except I don’t look at Ghost’s face. I take in the hardness straining against his boxer shorts, the long thick ridge he’s stroking like he didn’t achieve release only minutes ago.
Knowing I’ve caused him to lose his self-control again has me pumping my fingers in and out of me faster. I move them in rhythm to his strokes, pretending they’re his cock.
“Ohh…” I try to stifle my moan, to push it to the back of my throat, but Ghost grips my face and forces me to look at him before he drags his thumb along my top lip. It is damp with a salty product that ignites the fireworks developing low in my stomach.