Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Do it,” she whispers.
“There’s another part that doesn’t want to ruin this dress. It’s stunning on you.”
“This old thing?” she replies. And though she probably did buy it at a thrift store and tailor it to herself, the tease isn’t in her question. She’s too desperate for more to waste time joking now.
I carefully slide the zipper down, reveling in each exposed inch of her creamy flesh. When the zipper stops at her waist, she lifts to push the sleeves down and off, then wiggles the dress over her hips, stepping out of it with surprising grace. Standing before me in nothing more than white silky panties and her stacks of jewelry, she meets my gaze confidently, letting me absorb her.
“Riley,” I whisper reverently.
I draw a fingertip over her collarbone, dragging it down her sternum, working my way around her necklaces and between her small breasts. Her nipples are hard and a brighter shade of pink than I’d imagined. They’re perfect, and every fantasy I’ve had is instantly rewritten with the reality of her. Her hips flare out, begging for my hands, but I detour over a scar on her lower belly.
“Appendectomy when I was eleven,” she explains to my lifted eyebrow. “I got to stay in the hospital overnight, and the nurse snuck me a chocolate pudding and watched Wheel of Fortune reruns with me on her break.”
“Where were your—” I pause, ‘parents’ on the tip of my tongue, and quickly correct, “foster parents?” I can’t imagine anyone leaving a scared eleven-year-old child alone in the hospital after a major surgery.
Riley shrugs. “I don’t remember who I was living with then. The Johnsons?” She screws up her face, thinking. “Maybe the Baldwins? Who knows.” At the return of my previously constant frown, she swipes her thumb over my lips. “It’s okay. I survived. And the pudding is a good memory.”
I bend down, placing a gentle kiss over the faded scar, apologizing for not being there for Riley at the time, even though it makes no sense. She was a child… I was in grad school. But even that reminder of our age difference doesn’t scare me anymore. How could it? Riley has lived so much more life than the mere sum of her years on Earth. In some ways, she’s more mature than I am despite the chronological years I have on her.
“I’ll get you all the pudding you can eat,” I vow. I continue with a path of kisses, laying one after the other across her belly, getting progressively lower as her hands press heavily on my shoulders, encouraging me toward her center, where she wants me. It’s where I want to be too.
I slip my fingers into her panties and slowly drag them down her legs as I sink to my knees for her. When she steps out of them, I stop, taking in how she’s fully bare before me. Oh, she’s still wearing her jewelry, but it’s almost a part of her and I can’t imagine her without it. I’ve certainly imagined it every time I’ve dreamed about this… the musical jangle of her bracelets as she strokes me, the messy tangle of her necklaces as she writhes in ecstasy.
Her pink, puffy lips lay before me. I inhale her sweetness and tease the backs of my fingers over her softness. She moans, so responsive to even the slightest touch. “Jesus,” I groan, more of a curse than a prayer. Running my hands down her calves, I urge her to step her feet apart.
When she does, I reward us both by pressing a kiss high on her mound. Another shudder works through her, and she grips my shoulders for support to stay standing. There’s so much that Riley doesn’t think she deserves—kind words, pleasure, a future—and I want to show her that she can have them all. I’ll give them to her.
Looking up her body to meet her eyes, I flatten my tongue and give her a long lick, right through the middle of her lips and over her clit. “Yes,” she hisses, the word turning to a nonsense sound as her eyes roll and her head falls back.
I do it again, savoring her taste on my tongue, and give myself over to my hunger, devouring her sweetness. I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue slowly over the nub as I test to see what she likes. I want to learn it all, with her soft moans and movements as my guide.
I lick and suck and eventually use the gentlest edge of my teeth to hold her clit at my mercy while I batter my tongue over it, drawing a sharp gasp of pleasure as her fingers tighten in my hair. Gripping and releasing her thighs, I roughly massage my way up until I’m spreading her wide open so I can have fuller access to feast on her. Dipping my tongue into her, I lap at her juices, drinking her down before fucking her with my stiff tongue as my cock begs to replace it, straining and leaking in my slacks.