Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
A few nights ago, he came for me. Only one night has he touched me like he did before. He said I was being good, and I deserved a reward. He laid me across his lap and instead of making my ass red with his hand, he pumped his fingers in and out of my needy pussy. He knows that I’ve been craving his touch, but I haven't begged him to fuck me yet. I just haven’t been able to get the words out.
“I want my mouth on you.” I remember him saying that as I came on his hand. I can’t deny that I wanted it, too.
He throws me on my back, and I part my legs for him. His shoulders dive between my legs, but he bites my thigh. I scream out as his fingers stroke my G-spot. It feels so good. My body heats with need. I wait for his lips to touch my clit. But they don’t. He sucks my inner thigh, so tantalizingly close but not quite there, and I wish that touch was where I need it most.
I beg him, “Please, Anthony. Please!” He pulls away from me and fingers me until I cum again from the ruthless pace of his touch.
I’m breathless and limp. I lie there until my body’s no longer useless.
I press my fingers against my hot cheeks. Everywhere still feels hot, but my cheeks and chest are burning. Each time he touches me, it’s more and more intense. I’ve never been so...sated in my life. It’s more than foreplay. It’s like he’s taking me higher than I could have taken myself. And what’s better is that he wants to push me there.
It’s a game to him though. I can’t forget. It’s not like he’s doing a good deed. He wants me to break for him. He wants me to beg. And I did. The memory reheats my body. He said he wanted to put his mouth on me, and I begged him to, but he didn’t.
“I said yes.” The words tumble from my mouth without a filter. He looks up at me with a neutral expression. “I heard you.”
His admission makes me feel self-conscious. Why have me beg for him if he wasn’t going to do it? I don’t understand why, but it hurts. I pull the duvet up and around my body and scoot up into a seated position. I can see him putting his shirt back on, but I don’t really watch him. I just want him to leave.
“You hesitated.” Anthony sits on the bed next to me, making it dip. I look up at him through my lashes, but I keep my mouth shut. An apology is trying to climb out, but I won’t. I’m not going to apologize for not begging quicker. I fight to keep my face from showing my anger. He cups my chin and leans down to kiss me, and I lean into him. I can’t help that I want his affection. I won’t deny that it fills a deep need I’m only now realizing how much I craved. His lips break from mine and I miss them instantly. I know he’s leaving, and I’ll be alone until tomorrow.
He gives me a soft smile and rubs his nose against mine. It makes me close my eyes. When I open them, he’s already across the room. Before he leaves he says, “Next time you’ll answer more quickly, kitten.”
The words come out before I'm even aware I'm saying them. “Yes, Anthony.”
That was three days ago. And he hasn’t touched me or hinted at anything else since. Most of the time I think he regrets this. I think he really doesn’t want me anymore. I’m not the pet he wanted. But then I think maybe I’m just missing something. Maybe he’s waiting for me. If that’s the case, I’m ready to beg. I hate this empty feeling that I’m not wanted or that I’m not good enough.
I look at the clock and it’s almost three. He’s come in everyday to check on me around now. My fingers tap on the keys, but I’m not typing anything. I’m just waiting for him. My work’s done anyway. It’ll pile up quickly, but it can wait.
Finally, I hear the sounds I’m used to. He’s coming. I set the laptop to the side and climb to the foot of the bed. I kneel there for him and wait.
I hear the door open, and I watch as he walks into my room. He gives me a small smile, and it fills my chest with warmth.
“Kitten,” he greets me as he walks toward me.
“Anthony,” I say his name with a breath of reverence. He cups my chin, and I lean into his embrace.
“How are you today?” he asks.
“Well.” I look up at him through my lashes and almost don’t say the words, but I need to. I need to let him know that I do want this. I’m sick without his presence. “I missed you.”