Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“She looks like you, in feline form,” he observed, snaking his hand under my shirt. “Pretty…and fierce.”
I moaned at the feel of Alistair’s stubbled jaw on my ear.
“Thank you, I—mmm.” I lowered my hand, cupped his cock through his khakis, and blurted, “How do you say Roger in French?”
He blinked at the wild non sequitur. “Rogz-air. Why do you ask?”
“I brought Rogz-air with me.”
“The pink thing?”
“Dildo,” I clarified.
“This is the same Roger you dropped at St. Pancras Station.”
“I only have one Rogz-air with me, honey. I have a much more extensive collection of sexy toys at home, but I figured he’d would do the job in Paris. I wasn’t counting on you, and well…obviously, he’s been thoroughly scrubbed and…”
His eyes took on a heated look I knew all too well. “Show me.”
We got to our feet, startling the sleeping dog. Beau gave us a bored once-over and resumed snoring as we hurried out of the kitchen, grabbing our things on our way upstairs.
Alistair ducked under a narrow doorframe at the top of the stairs, dropped his bag, and pulled me to his chest. Our mouths collided hungrily. And just like that, the rest of the world melted away.
I clung to him, my arms wrapped around his neck as he ravaged me. Yes, ravaged. I felt like a damsel with a ripped bodice on a retro romance cover. No complaints here. The plunging tongues, roving hands, and the seductive sway of hips was pure poetry.
Alistair unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans, slipping his fingers under the elastic of my boxer briefs to knead my ass cheeks while I was still reeling from his kiss. He ghosted a digit along my crack and licked my earlobe, thrusting his erection against mine.
I nipped his lip, reaching between us to rub him good and dirty. “No teasing. Get naked and show me the goods, Professor.”
Alistair shook his head. “No, love. I’m calling the shots tonight. Listen closely. Are you listening?”
Professor fantasy unlocked. He had my full attention like nothing and no one ever had.
“Y-yes.”
“Take off your clothes, retrieve your toy, and get on the bed…on your knees. I want to see that pretty hole of yours. Do you understand?”
I gulped and possibly nodded, but don’t quote me. I was in another zone.
I shed clothing in record time and rummaged through my bag for Roger, tossing socks, briefs, and the umbrella we could have used earlier in the day. I found my toy in the sealed compartment I’d packed it in, all cleaned up and ready to play. Then I hustled to the bed, stopping in my tracks.
“Oh, honey, we’re gonna break this thing.”
“It’s sturdy.”
“Are you sure? Maybe we should—” I glanced his way and nearly swallowed my tongue. “Fuck me, you’re hot.”
It was true. Alistair was tall and thick in all the right places—his chest, his thighs, his gorgeous cock. Nothing about him was overly sculpted or perfect, but his realness was alluring. I licked my lips, shamelessly admiring his hairy pecs.
Alistair set a bottle of lube and a packet of condoms on the nightstand and pointed meaningfully. “Bed. Now. Don’t touch yourself. Your cock and arse are mine.”
“Holy shit. Yes, yes, yes.”
I obeyed, positioning myself on my hands and knees, presenting my ass like a gift. The bedsprings creaked as he climbed behind me onto the mattress, splaying his palms on my back. He drizzled lube over my crack and glided his cock along my crease.
I think I whimpered. Oh, my God…mortifying. But I couldn’t help it.
Anticipation ate me alive, which was kinda strange ’cause I was a damn good bottom. Like…the best, VIP, top shelf. The key was to relax every fiber of every muscle in the body. Once his beast of a cock was inside me, I could take over, guiding the action with the tilt of my hips and a well-timed, “Fuck me harder.”
That was how it had worked with previous lovers, anyway. Not so much with the professor.
I forgot myself with him. I was too strung out to relax. Desire tripped me up, making me dizzy and shaky. Precum dripped from my aching dick onto the sheet below. If I’d trusted my balance, I’d have jerked it for a little relief, but he’d warned me not to touch myself and I wanted to be good for him. So good.
Finally, Alistair eased a finger inside me and reached around to grip my cock. I could have wept with relief. To be clear, I had no chill now. I fucked into his fist, riding that single digit like a ho.
He pulled out, tsking. “Slow down, boy.”
“Ungh.” I hung my head and sucked in a breath. “Please.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll get what you want, Win. What you need,” he purred, slipping two fingers in.
I gripped the pillow with a grunt, arching into his touch and moaning aloud when he found my sweet spot. It was so good, but still not enough. “More.”