Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Struggling to breathe, I push my breasts together, moaning when Jason starts to pump his enormous sex through the middle of them, his pathway slickened by spit, his face twisting in a mask of ecstasy. Mine must look exactly the same way, because oh wow. What I’m looking up at is the most incredible, erotic sight. This man, his powerful body a network of tattoos, is fully nude. Rocking his hips. His jaw is slack, his eyes bright with unspent lust, all of it homing in on me.
“Is this wrong?” I whisper, watching that bulbous head spear through, retreat, spear through, disappear halfway. Faster, faster, to match his punctuated grunts.
“Yes,” he manages, slowing down. “I should stop. Oh God, I should stop.”
The walls of my sex converge almost violently over his continuation of our play.
I don’t know why I love this so much. This game.
Maybe because it feels so real.
Maybe because he…has become a father figure and a lover at the same time. Or maybe I just sensed that he could fulfill the unknown inside of me.
Whatever the reason, I never want to stop.
“Let me just take a second to calm down, angel,” he rasps, tearing himself away from me. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he puts his head in his hands, his mighty back heaving, along with his sides. “I’m sorry. Lately you just get me so…”
“What?” I whisper, kneeling behind him, stroking my fingertips down his spine.
He shudders. “Aroused.”
I bite my lip to keep from crying out, the throb between my legs almost unbearable now. Devouring the sight of his broad shoulders, the weathered masculinity of his skin, I slip my panties off, leaving my body completely nude. Soundlessly, I climb off the bed and move to stand in front of him, naked as a sacrifice in the moonlight, his resulting groan cutting right through me. Sensitizing me everywhere.
I turn around and give Jason my back, slowly sitting down in his lap.
Feeling his ragged pants against the nape of my neck, I drape my legs over his sturdy thighs, my butt nudging his ramrod shaft against his belly, pushing, rubbing.
“Angel, we can’t.”
I lift and scoop back with my hips, bringing his erection down beneath me, the hot length of it pressing to my wetness. Slipping up and back, slowly, in a forbidden rhythm. “But you arouse me, too,” I whisper back over my shoulder, trading dark, conflicted eye contact. “M-maybe two wrongs make a right, Daddy.”
His tether snaps and he reaches between my legs for his thickness, cramming it home with a choked sound. Filling me. His size is a glorious shock to the system, my nerve endings screaming in relief, my tenderest muscles gathering in a spasm that cuts off my breath, warm, sticky moisture seeping out of me while I whine and rock my hips, jerkily.
“Oh, my goodness!”
“Christ. Christ almighty,” Jason growls through his teeth, surging to his feet with me still impaled on his long inches, his right forearm supporting my hips, my feet dangling inches from the floor. “Of course you’re a tight little fuck. Of course you are.”
I have no time to prepare before I’m thrown down, face first, over the top of his wide dresser, knocking over a cologne bottle and a picture frame in the process, his hips ramming into mine like a bull in heat who finally found a mate. I bite down on my bottom lip and take his violent lust, reveling in every second. Every pronounced rattle of the furniture, every thrust into my tingling heat. I welcome the roughness, angling my backside as high as possible to receive the stroke of his smooth length against my clitoris, whimpering when I find the spot, and oh yes, he loves that. He loves when I open my knees and elevate my butt. His frantic and encouraging curses tell me so.
“Yes, yes, just like that. Oh. Oh God.” His eyes glitter back at me in the mirror above the dresser, moonlight glistening on his sweaty chest. “You made me do this. You made me. Now I’m never going to be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I murmur, looking at his reflection, squeezing my innermost flesh around his tunneling sex. “I just wanted you to stop fighting this. It was always yours. You don’t have to resist anymore.”
He groans brokenly, hanging his head. However, he thrusts into me all the harder. Harder. Harder until the dresser is thumping off the wall. My fingers cling to the wood grain and I feel another implosion coming, my sore sex rippling with a warning. A sign of my oncoming pleasure that makes me whimper and dance on his expanding girth, my hips unable to stay still from the excitement.
“You make me come so good, Daddy,” I baby talk, my feet kicking, still unable to touch the ground, my pussy tightening, tightening. “I knew you would.”