Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I grin, then walk into the portal. She follows me a moment later. We emerge onto a glorious, beautiful cove, a narrow stream of water leading to the ocean, glistening emerald cliffs rising on each side of the stream, sunlight cascading over golden shores with caves beckoning from within the shining emerald.
DakkyDuck: Is this the cove?
It’s like I can hear the shock in her voice.
DakkyDuck: Why is it so empty?
TheRealCreator: It’s a private version. A test version, no enemies, no other players.
DakkyDuck: It looks so much more beautiful like this.
TheRealCreator: Or you never have time to take in the details because you’re too busy trying to survive.
DakkyDuck: Ha, that just sounds like life.
I chuckle—in real life—because she’s right.
DakkyDuck: It’s romantic like this.
Her avatar walks around. I follow as she wanders over to a cave. She turns her character to face mine.
DakkyDuck: Don’t get any funny ideas in here.
TheRealCreator: I’m full of ideas, beautiful, but there’s nothing funny about any of them.
DakkyDuck: Oh yeah? What sort of ‘ideas’?
I swallow, struck with a strong sense of disbelief. A fantasy goblin and elf in an empty level on a video game, and my dick is already growing hard. How she looked on her last stream comes to me. Her top clinging tightly to her big, perfect tits. The sassiness in her eyes as she stared a challenge at the camera. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating.
TheRealCreator: If I tell you, I might get carried away.
DakkyDuck: Then you HAVE to tell me.
TheRealCreator: A woman like you, Dakota, in a dark private place—all to myself? Hell, I’m shaking just thinking about it.
DakkyDuck: Really? Shaking?
She moves her character closer.
I bite down.
TheRealCreator: It’s a sign of how out of touch I’ve become that I only just heard about you. You’re one of Empire’s biggest streamers. I should’ve known. But now that I do know you… I can’t get you out of my head.
She moves even closer.
DakkyDuck: So.
TheRealCreator: So if I have you all to myself. No viewers, competition, or commenters thinking they have a chance. Just you, me, and darkness. Your body against mine. My hands greedily mapping every single curve. My manhood pushing against you, feeling how badly you want it, even as you sass me, even as you hold onto control.
I close my eyes, seeing it, feeling it. My hands sinking greedily into her thickness, pulling her flush against me. My dick, firm in my pants, twitching and pulsing as come builds, ready to blow.
I take slow, even breaths. Willing myself to calm down. Or trying to.
With Dakota—with this tempting-as-fuck ‘stranger’—it’s impossible.
CHAPTER 7
DAKOTA
Okay, seriously, this has to be Jackson Cross, right?
He has access to an empty version of Emerald Cove. His character is decked out in all end-game gear. And, well, everything else. He’s being cautious, which is fair enough. But Jackson Cross is dirty talking me in his game.
I try to be chill about it, to remind myself I need to be as careful as he is. I don’t want to go too far. Put myself out there. Get hurt. But flirting with him is fun. And his message turns me on, big time.
I’m not some nympho, but the truth? I want to reach between my legs. Slip my hand into my PJ shorts and press down on my core to relieve some of the pressure there.
DakkyDuck: Is this why you brought me here?
TheRealCreator: You asked, hot stuff.
I grin, ear-to-ear. In my head, I can hear Noah urging me on. “No one controls you, Dakky. Not your dad. Not your boyfriend. No one—only you. If that means making your own mistakes, make them!”
DakkyDuck: Maybe I wouldn’t mind being dragged into the dark.
I feel naughty as I click send, as if I’m breaking some kind of rule. I’m not. People role-play in Empire all the time. There’s a big romance community on some servers. That’s just never been my jam.
TheRealCreator: What are you wearing?
I chew my lip. Am I making a mistake? Maybe, but as Noah said, it’s mine to make.
DakkyDuck: Short shorts. And a tank top. But no bra.
TheRealCreator: Are you telling me those juicy tits of yours are free? Your nipples poking through the fabric, waiting to be touched?
My head swims with heat. Wetness tickles out of my entrance, my clit suddenly feeling hot.
DakkyDuck: Maybe I am, but you know I can’t go into detail until I know, Jackson.
His character assumes a thinking pose. I grin, impressed that he’s so immersed in the game that he’s emoting. But then, what did I expect? Jackson Cross spent the first ten years of his life stubbornly addicted to video games, turning it into a passion, then a profession, when he dropped out of college.
TheRealCreator: Check the streaming app.
I close the game. Go to the app. Stare at the rectangle in the middle of the screen. There’s a play icon, meaning it’s a video. My lips feel dry. I lick them, which does nothing.