Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
He pauses at my announcement.
As in, really pauses. His arms were up once again, his fingers slicking his hair back. His head was slightly tipped up to catch the water on his face and his jaw was ticking. Because no matter how much he wants to pretend I’m not there, I am and he knows it. But after my pronouncement, all of that stops, the pulse of his jaw, his fingers moving, his chest moving with breaths, everything.
But again, I keep going. Despite feeling like my throat is filled with sharp gravel and my tongue is covered in papercuts. “Oops, sorry, fiancée. Because they’re engaged now. The girl you’re in love with is engaged to your twin brother. You call it a ‘problem’ because you don’t like to talk about it. Because you probably think if you talk about it, it’s going to get even more painful. Oh and her name is Isadora Holmes, and soon it will be Isadora Thorne. But not because she’s marrying you but your twin brother. And it hurts. It hurts so much that it’s affecting everything in your life. Your relationships, your career. There you go. Think about that while you take your peaceful shower. And don’t come apologizing to me for being a giant dickhead—”
My words morph into a mini scream when he grabs me by the arm and hauls me toward him, spinning me around. Suddenly, I’m standing under the hot spray myself, his wildly breathing, growling chest at my back, his fingers around my throat and his lips at my ear. “You need to shut the fuck up.”
I squeeze his wrist and say, “No, you—”
This time, he cuts me off by pushing me into the tiled wall. I gasp at the sudden cold contact, my hands coming up to slap it so I can find my balance, and he growls, “You’re so worried about me, huh? About my game, about my trophy, my dream, about being my fucking cheerleader all the time, that you’re one pom-pom away from being banged like one behind the bleachers.”
I’m panting from the contrast of his heated, humid chest at my back and the cold hard tile that’s raising goosebumps on my skin. That and the fact he keeps stealing my breaths every few seconds with his fingers. “You’re such a p-pig.”
“But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What do you think we’ve been doing these past few days?”
“What?”
“Why do you think”—he moves his other arm, which was around my waist, lower, and without any warning, plunges his finger inside my pussy—“your pussy is full of me right now? Why do you think she’s fucking flooded with me, huh? So much so that your body can’t even contain it. Your tiny little tight as fuck cheerleader pussy can’t contain me and I am running down your fucking thighs right now.”
To emphasize, he curls his finger inside me and… Oh Jesus, I can feel it. I can feel his long, thick finger brushing against the upper wall of my pussy like he’s made a hook inside of me and now scooping out—I can’t even believe I’m using that phrase in this context—his cum, making it run down my thighs even harder. Making me go up on my tiptoes and arch my back so I somehow get him deeper inside of me while also getting away from him.
Because it’s too much. I’m too sensitive down there, too tender and too horny.
“Shepard, stop. You—”
“Because I came inside you,” he grates, completely ignoring me and my plea. In fact, he puts a second finger in and does the same. Curls them and massages the upper wall of my channel and holy fuck, if he doesn’t stop I’m going to come. I’m going to come big. I may also pee. So he really, really needs to stop.
But instead of telling him that, all I can do is moan and sob as he continues, “I came inside you not once, not twice. Not even three times. I came inside you every fucking time we’ve been together. I came inside you even when all I had planned to do was eat your pussy and drink your cum. But because you’re so fucking delicious, so fucking tasty, I had to fuck my fist and then shove my cock inside you so you could catch my cum. Because I wasn’t going to come anywhere else but inside your strawberry pussy now, was I? Your sweet, tart, tight, cumbucket of a strawberry pussy. So what do you think that is?”
Again, he’s right. He did come inside me multiple times last night, even when he wasn’t inside me. Even when he was jerking off like he said. He’d fuck his fist while eating me out and when he’d be close to coming, he’d slip the tip in and put his thick, hot cum inside of me. And I loved it. I loved how he refused to come anywhere else other than my pussy. How sometimes we came together like that, me from his mouth and him from his fist while using his mouth on me.