Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I end the call and drop the phone, delighted by the rage coloring his face and the profanity he’s so clearly spewing. “I think he’s jealous,” I murmur in Bianca’s ear. “Wishing it was him that was fucking you. I doubt he ever made you squirt or explode like I’m about to.”
“No, never.” She pants. “Harder. Please, fuck me harder!” She’s possessed now, determined, maybe because she remembers all the times she wished he’d fuck her this way. All the nights she went unfulfilled. I don’t need her to describe it. I understand without being told.
I forget about Lucas, about everything. My attention focuses solely on giving her what she needs. Taking her by the hips, I pound into her mercilessly until her ass bounces against my groin and she shrieks and claws at the glass.
I’m mesmerized, watching as her soft hair falls down the gentle slope of her back. All that can be heard are the slaps of our skin and the heavy pants and moans we both expel.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m…” Her entire body freezes, and then her pussy ripples, sending a rush of warm wetness over my shaft and balls. A broken cry of pleasure falls from her swollen lips. I don’t have it in me to wait another second. I’m so close, there’s no holding my release back.
It’s habit that makes me pull out, grab her by the shoulder, and force her to her knees while she’s still in the grips of her release. She offers no resistance. In fact, she kneels in front of me, her eyes lust-hazed, her pink tongue out, and her beautiful face prepared to take whatever I have to give.
“Get ready,” I whisper, my fist moving in a blur over my length. “Ahhhhh….” The groan of pleasure rips from my chest. Bliss. Sheer bliss.
It rocks me to my core as spurts of cum jet out of me. Each one coats her tongue, then her chin and cheeks. I aim the rest at her tits, painting them until cum drips down her skin. She’s a masterpiece. Smiling, proud of herself, eyes glowing in adoration.
My biggest weakness. The only temptation I could not resist.
“You’re such a good girl, letting me mark you with my cum,” I praise, dragging my thumb along her chin to catch my cum before pressing the digit past her plump lips. She sucks greedily, her tongue swirling, licking me clean.
Fuck, I am in trouble.
She isn’t like the others. How many pearl necklaces have I given to women whose faces I forgot minutes later? I can treat her like them, but she’s worlds away. It hits me square in the chest, right over the thumping organ.
I help her to her feet, and only one thing appears in my mind. I have to tie her to me for good. It isn’t enough for her to promise, even if she means it.
“Are you okay?” The question is foreign to me. I’ve never given a shit about the woman on a deeper level than getting my cock wet. “I didn’t… are you hurt?”
Fuck me. I should’ve taken it easier on her, given her more time to adjust.
She shakes her head, her face flush. “I don’t think so. I feel sore, but that’s all.”
Something close to relief surges through me. “Good. Hold on a minute.” I mumble to myself and walk into the bathroom to grab a washcloth. I twist the tap on and wet it, then ring out the access water.
When I return to Bianca her face is still flush, and I nudge her legs apart. I alternate between watching her features, and gently cleaning her pussy. My pussy. She watches me, almost as if she is shocked by my actions and I spend a little longer than necessary making sure she’s squeaky clean.
“I’ll take you home.” I announce, and walk back into the bathroom tossing the washcloth in the laundry bin. “Let me wash my hands.”
“Okay, yeah.” She replies. I’m not trying to get rid of her and I hope she knows that. I quickly wash my hands and reappear a few moments later, smoothing a hand down my shirt.
“Ready?” I ask and she merely nods. I lead the way down the stairs, then out through the private exit beneath the staircase. The narrow alley running alongside the building is dimly lit, and quiet compared to the raucous noise inside. In the light from a single bulb hanging over the door, her tentative smile cuts straight through my heart, but fractures of fear linger.
Sweet little bird. So hungry for my touch but afraid to hope.
“Are you afraid of me, little bird, or are you afraid of what my touch can do to you?”
She gives her head a shake. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what this means, of what could happen.”