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)
She moves her character closer.
DakkyDuck: What would that attention look like?
TheRealCreator: You need to tell me how specific you want me to get.
My hands are trembling as I type.
DakkyDuck: However specific you need to be to get hard for me.
Oh, fuck.
I lean back for a moment, my cock flooding with even more heat, my head swimming with tension begging to be released. My heart thuds fiercely against my pec muscle, my balls swelling with lust.
TheRealCreator: I don’t need to say anything for that. I’m hard for you now. Just thinking about you on stream, the way you chew your lip, the little twitches in your eyes and lips, those secret near smiles that seem designed just for me…
DakkyDuck: You’re the only one who notices them. So I think they MUST be for you.
TheRealCreator: I want you, Dakota. I can’t lie. I want you in the game and I want you in real life. I want you. Badly.
DakkyDuck: For what?
It’s like I can hear her moans behind the digital shield between us.
DakkyDuck: If you had me, what would you do? Oh, and I lied before. I said to be specific for you. But really, I want it for ME.
CHAPTER 9
DAKOTA
I’m hot and sticky all over, but especially between my legs. I haven’t felt lust like this in a long, long time—no, scratch that. Ever. I’m not saying he’s some magic man with a magic dick. But the tension is thick, excitement thumping through me as I wait for his next message.
He types, and I let out a squeak I’m not even embarrassed about.
TheRealCreator: I’d start with your perfect mouth. Those lush, expressive lips. It’s only been a week, but I’ve thought about kissing you a hundred times. A thousand. The noises you’d make—the little moans, maybe nervous at first, then sinking into it. As we kiss, I’d glide my hands down your body, over your wide, thick, sexy hips, then around to your ass. A few days ago, on stream, you were wearing those shorts… I fucking leaked, beautiful, fucking burning with precome just thinking about that.
I stare at his message, first as it hovers above his character, then in the chat box in the bottom left. The ache in my core is unbelievable, a throbbing urgency that has my head spinning and my mind bringing his words vividly to life.
I imagine my hand wrapped around his throbbing length, because in my imagination, there’s no way this man isn’t packing. The groaning, needy noises he’d make. His stiffness pushing against my stomach as he struggled to contain himself.
TheRealCreator: Dakota?
TheRealCreator: You better have gone quiet because you’re too busy rubbing your hand between your legs. Focusing on my words and imagining me there, with you, our bodies slick, hot, and so fucking ready for each other.
DakkyDuck: What do you mean—busy?
I type.
TheRealCreator: Don’t play games with me. You know what I mean.
His reply is totally hypocritical. But for some reason, I’m in the mood to give him a pass.
DakkyDuck: Maybe I want you to say it.
TheRealCreator: Busy rubbing your hand into your underwear, over your needy, swollen clit, down your hot lips, to your entrance, I just fucking know it, wet and sticky and ready as fuck thinking about me taking you. Hard. Repeatedly, over and over again.
DakkyDuck: Is that what you want, then? My hand to be busy?
TheRealCreator: I don’t WANT it. I’m fucking DEMANDING it.
I should tell him I don’t play that shit. I should tell him that one of the cornerstones of my entire personality, in fact, is not playing that shit. But there’s something about the context and the man saying it and the heat that’s already got me firmly in its grip that makes that… impossible.
I breathe hard, typing out a message.
DakkyDuck: As a FANTASY, that turns me on a lot. As a FANTASY.
TheRealCreator: In the spirit of a FANTASY, I need for your hand to move between your legs, to rub your clit, your folds, your entrance, or whichever hot-as-fuck part needs attention. And as you’re doing that, I need you to imagine us on this bed together. Just us, the wind howling outside the cave, my body pressed firmly against yours as years of repressed, furious hunger come bubbling out.
I want to slide my hand down there badly. I’m aching for it. Maybe it’s the small-but-real chance this isn’t Jackson Cross. Mara said it’s 100% him, but with technology these days, deep fakes, identity theft… what if I’m being played? And also, there’s the control thing.
I want to give in. To sink sinfully into his control, it’s embrace. But my history stops me.
And yet, hypocritically, I don’t want him to hold back.
DakkyDuck: Are you rubbing your cock for me?
TheRealCreator: I wasn’t. But I am now. Rubbing my hard dick, thinking about your thick, beautiful, round ass. Thinking about those juicy tits bouncing for me as I slide inside, as I claim you, fuck you like I can’t stop, like I never want to stop, and you beg for more and more each second.