Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
His hand slid down my stomach, fingers playing at the waistband of my shorts. “May I?” he asked, his eyes holding mine.
I nodded and found my voice. “Yes.”
His fingers dipped beneath the elastic, moving slowly, giving me time to change my mind. But I didn’t want him to stop. When his fingertips brushed against my slit, I gasped, my hips jerking slightly at the contact.
I hiked my leg higher up on his, giving him better access. He traced the length of my seam as I moaned.
“God, your skin is radiating heat.”
Before I could respond to that, his fingertip slid into my folds, gliding easily. “Hot and wet. You’re going to be the death of me, Mia,” he groaned.
My hips rolled in response to his touch, and I pushed against his hand, wanting more.
“Is this what you want?” He asked softly, circling my clit with gentle pressure.
“God, yes,” I whispered, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He continued working my clit, alternating between soft circles and firmer strokes. When he slipped a finger inside me, I moaned, burying my face against his neck.
“You’re so damn tight,” he murmured. “So damn perfect.”
He slid a second finger in, pushing them in a little more each time as the sounds of my ragged breathing filled the room. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within me. A shuddering moan escaped my lips, my hips moving against his hand.
“That’s it,” he encouraged softly. “Let go for me, Mia.”
He knew just how to make that happen, rubbing my clit faster, fingers circling before pushing in again. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. I cried out, my body shuddering against him as waves of pleasure washed over me. He held me through it, his body absorbing my thrashing movements. I cried out, my head against his shoulder, unable to catch my breath as I writhed around on the bed. His fingers finally slowed when I was completely spent.
Aaron cradled me to him, stroking my hair and whispering soothing things that I could barely hear over my harsh breaths. But when my chest finally stopped heaving and my hips stopped bucking from aftershocks, he still held me.
Now that I was able to breathe—and think—again, I became aware that his erection was still pressed against me.
I shifted my leg, and I felt its hard heat through his soft pajama pants. Feeling suddenly bold, I slid my hand down his chest, over his stomach, until I reached the waistband of his pajama pants. “Can I... touch you?” I asked, my voice small but determined.
His breath hitched. “Only if you want to.”
“I do,” I said. It was true—but I had to find the courage to do so. I wasn’t very confident about my skills in this area. Or any area when it came to men.
Slowly, I slid my hand beneath the stretchy fabric. When I encountered the hard flesh of his cock, we both froze. Then, tentatively, I wrapped my fingers around it. He was hard and hot in my hand, and bigger than I was expecting. The skin surprisingly soft, but there was steel underneath it.
“Am I doing this right?” I asked, giving him an experimental stroke.
“God, yes,” he groaned, his hips pushing into my touch. “Just like that.”
Encouraged, I continued, varying my pressure and speed, watching his face for reactions. When I rubbed my thumb over the tip, spreading the moisture I found there, his eyes closed and his head fell back.
“Does that feel good?” I wanted to make sure even though he sounded like he was enjoying it.
“It’s perfect,” he assured me, his voice strained. “You’re perfect.”
His breathing grew more ragged as I continued, and I felt a surge of confidence knowing I was making him feel good. Then his hand covered mine, guiding me to the rhythm he needed.
“Mia,” he warned, “I’m close.”
I increased my pace, and moments later he tensed, a low groan escaping him as he came. I stroked him through it, fascinated by the way his body responded to my touch.
Afterward, he pulled me close, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, his breathing still loud and harsh. “That was amazing,” he murmured, nuzzling his cheek against mine.
I nestled against him, feeling strangely powerful and vulnerable all at once. “It was,” I agreed softly.
We lay together in comfortable silence, our breathing gradually slowing. He pulled the blanket over us both, and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
“Still with me?” he murmured in the darkness.
I smiled against his skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We had the whole rest of the night. It seemed like a shame to waste it on sleep, but I felt it come. I felt utterly safe in his arms, more content than I could remember being in a long time.