Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I barely get in another three grinds when the dark, dangerous stranger stills my hips with hands that prove a man’s hands accurately indicate the size of his cock. “If you keep doing that, I’ll make a mess in my pants.” He mocks himself with a husky chuckle that’s an odd mix of disgust and self-admiration. “It’s been a while.”
I laugh, confident he’s joking. “You can’t call a week a while.”
It’s probably closer to a day, but I can’t picture him with anyone else since the afternoon we met. It would crush me. I’m one of those romance book lovers who want the male main character not to be with anyone else the instant he meets the female main character. I have no interest in reading about them admiring anyone else, much less sleeping with them.
“A week?” His “Ha!” is so convincing that before I can remind myself that I’m a novice in all things sexual, I slip off his lap and kneel in front of him.
His abstinence, though not for me, deserves a reward.
His gasp when he realizes where my thoughts have wandered is the sexiest sound yet. It’s almost desperate. Has he imagined this scene a dozen times the past week as well? I’m approaching two dozen.
The bubbles of a shaken soda burst in my stomach as my hand shoots out to his belt. Watching him through hooded lids, I undo the clasp and fan open the leather straps so they rest on each side of what I’m confident is a rock-hard Apollo belt.
He scoots forward enough for me to tug his trousers down his thick thighs, but he makes no effort to rule our exchange. He’s content to sit back and watch the show, and I’m more than happy to join in.
I run my hand along the ridge of his erection, shuddering when I require two hands to cover his length. His white boxers stretch to within an inch of their limit.
The tingles rushing through my womb intensify as I tug down the waistband of his boxer shorts, and his dick springs free. I hear the imaginary boing from its bounce while I wet my lips in anticipation of their stretch.
His cock is so inspiring that I gasp in excitement while moving my mouth to the glistening tip. He is circumcised, and a bead of pre-cum gathers at the top of the split. I’ve never been good with measurements, but as I see it, he’s the biggest I’ve been with, and there are about two more inches hidden by his seated position.
We moan together as I run my tongue over the crown, tasting him. As expected, he tastes amazing. His pre-cum is a little salty, but with the cleanliness you’d expect from a man in peak physical shape.
“Take it, angelo.” He combs his fingers through my hair and tugs ever so slightly, struggling not to take control.
I love that he isn’t pushing the narrative. It’s rare, and it doubles my eagerness to please him.
As I lower my lips down his twitching shaft, he slowly rocks his hips upward. His jaw tenses when I take him deep into my mouth, and his groan vibrates throughout the room.
“Yes. Just like that.”
Desire fires through his eyes when I swivel my tongue around his veiny shaft before I slowly retreat my lips, all while maintaining eye contact.
Since I’m not fully accepting all of him in my mouth, I pump the remaining parts with my hand.
It excites him even more.
His grip on my hair firms as praise rings in my ears. “Those lips… that mouth… they’re better than I imagined, and so much better than my hand.” I tighten my lips around his shaft, loving his confession that I’ve invaded his thoughts. “Yes… Make me unravel. Take me harder. Fuck me with your pretty little mouth.”
My cheeks hollow as my lips stretch to cover his girth. He has length and width, and the thought of him finishing down my throat squeezes my thighs together.
Again and again, I take him in and out of my mouth. I lick the tip and squeeze his balls with my other hand while watching all the emotions playing out on his face.
God, he’s a stunning man. His features are tense with desire, but each one is flawless. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. And his cock is enormous. He embodies the threat I’ve been trying to avoid for the past three years.
Chemistry forever brews trouble for me. I can’t do attachments. I’m rarely in one place for more than a month, and it’s unusual to find someone willing to overlook my career.
I’m not a stripper because I want my body to be worshiped. It’s because I make fast, morally ethical money.
Though it doesn’t seem like that right now.
I’d stop if I could, but money and a life-crippling debt aren’t fueling my motives right now.