Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Again, his eyes trail down my breasts and across my flabby tummy before they land on the apex of my pussy. He smirks when he spots my wish to clamp my legs shut in the shake of my thighs. Then he doubles their fight.
“Did you wax today, or is it something you do on a regular basis?”
A reply leaves my mouth before I can stop it. “I used hair-removing cream.”
“What was that?”
He heard me. The throbbing of the gigantic rock behind his zipper announces this, much less the relief blistering through his unique eyes. But for some reason, he wants me to repeat myself like whiny women with low self-esteem aren’t his jam.
“I used hair-removing cream,” I repeat more firmly. “Because he would have used a recent waxing appointment as an excuse to turn me down.”
I thought I said my last sentence in my head.
The stranger proves otherwise. “He?”
A snippet of doubt creeps under my skin.
Although I’ve yet to meet a man who isn’t an adulterer, they seem to hate it when it is the woman being promiscuous.
After a quick exhale to free nerves from my voice, I raise my eyes to the stranger and then confess, “My husband.”
“Your husband turns you down?”
He arches a brow when I nod but remains quiet. The silence should lessen the intensity of the tension brewing between us. It doesn’t. It turns scalding, and within minutes, I am burning up everywhere.
My clit is thumping, and I’m wet enough for the scent of lust to overtake the anger leaking from my pores.
It’s been years since I’ve felt this desired, but is that enough of an excuse to pardon the sanctity of my vows? My head screams no, but my body won’t hear its claims.
My body wants to betray Roy as much as my heart does, and the stranger offers the perfect method of betrayal.
“Take my dick out.”
I stammer, shocked. “Wh-what?”
He tightens his grip on my hair, exciting me further. “If you want to get back at the conniving two-faced dog you once called your husband, take my dick out.”
My hands shoot for his belt before my brain can fire a single objection. Energy crackles in the air over my submissiveness. I don’t know who is more turned on by it: the stranger or me.
My trek across Vegas was founded on revenge, so my readiness makes sense.
Hot breaths bound off the massive rod scarcely contained by the zipper of his pricy trousers, and they grow in intensity when I unbutton the top fastener and lower the zipper.
The more I fumble, the harder the stranger gets.
This is so left field for me that I feel like I’m drunk.
I honestly forgot how intoxicating lust can be.
The idea of sucking him off sends a tremor rolling down my spine, but still, nerves are present.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, you do,” the stranger counters.
My heart catapults into my stomach when he uses his free hand to tug his pants and boxer shorts down his tattooed thighs, and his cock springs free. It is thick and veiny, leaking with pre-cum. It proves I’m not the only one turned on by my risqué tiptoe into enemy territory.
Wet heat floods my pussy when he fists the end of his shaft with his large hand. He’s big and long, and even with my head shouting for me to tell him I’m not a prostitute, I wet my lips in preparation to be stretched.
His head tilts as a smile ghosts his mouth. As he stares straight at me, he slides his hand to the crown of his fat cock before he drags it back to the base. I shudder, on the verge of climax. I’ve never seen such a raw, primal act of masculinity in my life.
I draw in ragged breaths as I watch the stranger pump his cock for several long strokes.
Watching isn’t cheating. Roy has claimed that several times over the past fourteen years.
Even if it were, the visual is too enticing not to gawk at.
My theory that I’m not cheating goes out the window when the stranger rolls his thumb over the slit at the tip of his cock so he can transfer a droplet of pre-cum to my lips.
When his thumb breaches between my lips, my insides squeeze. He tastes delicious, and it sets a fire ablaze in my core—a fire I can’t control.
Shit, I’m going to come if I don’t calm the wildfire spreading across my midsection.
The effort to hold back the sensation I’ve not experienced in an extremely long time doubles when the stranger mutters, “Not yet. You’re not allowed to come yet.” Disappointment stops blistering my skin when he adds, “You’re not allowed to come until you’re riding my face or strangling my cock. So what is it going to be, printsessa? Do you want to take me for a ride, or are you reserving the pleasure for me?”