Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He’s hardly touched me, his thumb still rubbing lazily back and forth in the crease of my hip, never dipping beneath the fabric of my panties.
It’s torture, and I can’t take it anymore. I want everything he’s offering me right now, and I’m going to take it.
“Fuck, Nick, please,” I sob, wrapping my leg around his hips, pulling him in closer as need builds between my legs. “I need this, need you. Please, I’ll do anything you want.”
Nick’s hand flies to my hip, pinning me against the bed even as he grinds the hard bulge of his cock against me.
“I already told you,” he growls into my ear, “promising a man like me anything is dangerous.”
“You don’t scare me,” I say breathlessly, watching with wide eyes as he pushes up to shove my dress above my hips as a grin lingers across his lips at the sight of the lacy black lingerie against my skin. “Haven’t I waited long enough?”
He huffs out a laugh, somewhere between disbelieving and adoring, as he leans up to ghost his lips over mine.
I melt into the kiss, dragging my nails across his scalp as he works me into a puddle with nothing but his mouth on mine. By the time he pulls back, I’m panting and glossy-eyed, so worked up I can hardly stand it.
He grins wickedly at the sight but doesn’t give me any time to catch my breath.
Long, thick fingers push my panties to the side, impatient and demanding even as he keeps his touches light and playful. I choke on a gasp, my legs falling open instinctively, begging for more as I grind up into his touch.
“So wet for me already?” he asks, his fingertips dragging through the mess between my thighs. “I’ve hardly even touched you yet, Princess. I had no idea you were this easy.”
He says it like he’s thrilled that my body responds so readily to his touch. I whimper when he leans down for another kiss, grinning against my mouth as he rolls his thumb over my clit.
“More.” It’s more than a plea but less than a demand, a breathless gasp of a word against his lips. “Nick.”
He doesn’t make me wait, nipping my bottom lip in approval. He slides two fingers inside me, forcing me open around his knuckles and causing a soft moan of pain and pleasure to escape me as he crooks his fingertip up to rub the sweet spot inside me.
“I’ve been waiting to hear you say my name like this for so long,” he says. “Knew you’d sound so pretty begging for me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? And the best part is… you’re all mine.”
I nod mindlessly, my hips jolting against his hand as I ride his fingers. “Yours,” I promise. “Yours.”
It’s impossibly intense, and I’m not stupid enough to think that it’s only because I haven’t gotten laid in a while.
It’s because it’s Nick.
On top of me, inside me, kissing me while he murmurs patronizing affection right into my mouth. He’s all-consuming, wrapping me up in the very fabric of his being as he works me open on his fingers. A third finger slides inside of me, and I wail, clutching at his broad shoulders and babbling out incoherent pleas for more. He doesn’t stop until he can fit his pinky in too, the widest part of his palm stretching me so far it feels like I’ll break.
Just as the pleasure starts to become unbearable, an orgasm creeps in around the edges of my consciousness, and he stops. His free hand falls over my throat, keeping me pinned in place as he slides his fingers free of my aching core, making sure I hear the filthy sound of my excitement.
I sob at the emptiness, looking up at him in betrayal.
“Oh, poor thing,” he croons, a wicked grin on his face as he pulls back. “You’ll survive, Princess. You’re going to come on my cock.”
I shake where I lie as he steps away, my body so overstimulated and still wanting more. He watches me like a hawk as he makes quick work of his clothes, shrugging his jacket carelessly onto the floor before he begins plucking at the buttons of his shirt.
My mouth waters at the expanse of his muscled chest being exposed inch by inch, a light dusting of dark hair between his pecs. It thins down into a dark trail that meets the hem of his slacks.
I’ve never wanted to worship someone before in my life, but fuck if he doesn’t look like a god.
It only gets better as he tugs at his belt, the movements so simple and yet so erotic when combined with the fact that he’s shirtless and staring at me like he wants to eat me alive. The belt slides free with a hiss of leather against fabric, and my mind flits back to the sound of that man getting hit with a riding crop earlier. What would the snap of his belt feel like against my ass? How long would the marks last?