Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 66865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Ugh, those thighs make me stupid.
For weeks, I’ve been trying not to notice how they flex when he walks, how track pants and jeans don’t quite fit properly because the muscles there bulge.
His giant, callused hand eases out from its spot under my body—I’ve been lying on it this entire time—and creeps to my ass. Palm splayed, fingers gripping my butt cheeks. Squeeze.
Leisurely, little by little, it makes its way up my back, under my shirt, slow circles along my spine. Up, up. Down under the thin cotton of my leggings, middle finger blazing a hot trail to my crack.
With my head on his chest and his beard flirting with the crown of my head, I finally snake my eager palm all the way inside his pants. It bumps the tip of his penis, its head straining against the layer of underwear, and I trace it with the tip of my finger. Run the pad of it round and round then go lower, feeling my way to the underside.
Trail along the shaft.
Entire palm closing over his…uh, balls.
Kip inhales again. Groans, fingers digging into my round butt cheeks. Breath coming hard and fast above me.
Timidly I stroke him through the material, not quite brave enough to stroke his actual…dick. Or touch it. Or—
I gasp when that thick finger of his that was grazing my rear is now firmly between my crack, easing its way to my pussy, causing my legs to ease apart.
“Get on top,” he rumbles.
“Wha…?”
Swiftly, two arms are pulling me, rolling me, resting me on top, stiff erection cradled between my thighs. Large, masculine hands gripping my hips.
Pushing at my leggings.
“This would feel so much better if you pulled your pants down.”
Wonderful idea.
Fantastic idea.
Two sets of arms and hands fumble to remove my leggings until they’re low enough for me to kick off. Until I’m lying on top of Kip in nothing but a flimsy t-shirt and skimpy thong.
“Let’s take yours off too,” I hear myself say. Desperate to feel every inch of him without actually…feeling every inch of him.
I lift my hips as he shucks his track pants off, marveling at how intimate the whole thing is. We’re not naked, but somehow we might as well be.
This is Kip, the guy who has become my friend in the past few weeks. The guy who has given me dating advice—albeit shitty, but advice nonetheless.
Kip, whose large, hairy body reaches for mine once his pants disappear into the bedroom. I hear them hit the floor somewhere in the distance at the same time his arms pull me down.
Line our bodies up like it’s second nature.
Kip’s hips begin a slow revolution until that dense, throbbing tip of him finds the fold between my legs and settles there.
“Oh my…fucking…god.” Kip exhales when his hands are back on my body, skimming gently over the globes of my butt. Over the back of my thighs. Up my shirt. Ribcage.
The sides of my breasts. Wanting to cup them but holding back.
“Can I touch them, Teddy? Just for a second?”
I want him to—so bad.
“Please.” His plea is a whisper, a sexy, aching whimper.
“Okay.” Yes, yes…!
“Sit up. Straddle me.”
Kip adjusts himself on the mattress, taking me along with him, rising to a seated position. If we were naked, I’d be fully impaled on his cock.
I experiment, swiveling my hips.
He groans.
Grabs my shirt by the hem and lifts it all the way off.
In the dark, giant man paws find my shoulders, float their way down my biceps, then—
“Jesus, Teddy, your tits,” he moans, palming them both, thumbs circling my stiff nipples. My mouth drops open as my head tips back, his lips and tongue flicking my skin. Mouth latching on and sucking, only coming up for air to say, “These are so perfect. I could suck on these all night.”
“They’re not perfect.” My hands brace on his hard thighs for support as he continues to pull and draw my nipple into his greedy mouth. “You can’t even see w-what they l-look like.”
He lifts his head, beard scratching my chest. “I don’t have to see these tits to know they’re perfect, Teddy.”
My arms go around his neck and I let him devour me, the throbbing between my legs unsatisfied. My lower half rakes back and forth over his dick, pushing and dragging and desperate for the tip to dig itself deeper into my pussy.
Somehow, our mouths fuse. Our first kiss, in the pitch black of his freezing cold bedroom, in the middle of the night—is frantic and hot and wet and dirty.
Tongues and lips and teeth. Beard scraping my face.
“Let me push your underwear to the side.” His raspy tone is desperate. “It’ll feel so good.”
That’s flirting with danger.
“Kip…” I might be protesting, but when his thumb reaches between us to push the barrier of my panties aside, we both sigh with relief. He was so right—it does feel amazing. So amazing, so amazing. Euphoric.