Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
The juxtaposition of the cold metal washing machine beneath my thighs and ass and Rumi’s hot mouth between my legs seemed to heighten every sensation. It wasn’t long before I came, embarrassingly short, actually, but Rumi didn’t care. He was stoked. He reached behind me and pushed some button on the washing machine before rolling a condom on as he stepped between my legs.
“Lean back a little, baby,” he murmured, gently bracing me as I scooted my arms back until they were on the little ledge of the back of the washing machine that held the controls. “Just like that.”
It took a few minutes to get the rhythm right because the washing machine’s thunks weren’t quite the same distance apart, but eventually everything moved as one. Every time the washing machine moved back against the wall, Rumi pulled out and every time it shifted toward him, he slammed back inside and it felt fucking fantastic, but it wasn’t quite right. I didn’t want to burst his bubble, though, so I didn’t say anything.
Which was silly, because of course he knew. He lifted his head, letting my nipple come out of his mouth with a little pop, and smiled.
“Fuck this shit,” he said with a grin. Wrapping one arm around my back and one under my ass, he lifted me off the washer and carried me toward his bedroom.
“Damn,” I murmured halfway there as he slid out of me. I ran my tongue up his neck and pulled his earlobe between my lips.
“Sorry,” he said with a breathless laugh.
“Didn’t like the washing machine?” I asked playfully.
“It was better in fantasy than reality.”
“Warned ya.”
“Zip it.” He smacked my ass, and I laughed.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said, letting my legs drop down. He gave me a quick kiss on the lips before spinning me around. “See, when I got this dresser I thought the mirror was stupid,” he mused, pushing on my back until I’d leaned forward to brace my hands on the top of the dresser. “What guy needs some frilly ass mirror on the top of his dresser?”
“One who likes to make sure he looks okay?”
“Sh,” he said, covering my mouth with his hand. I laughed against his palm. “But then, a couple of days ago, I was lookin’ in the mirror and I thought, this dresser is the perfect height.”
He used his foot to widen my stance, his eyes still on mine in the mirror.
“It wouldn’t be the right height for just anyone,” he murmured in my ear, biting my jaw softly. “But, Nova…”
I let out a shuddering breath as his hand smoothed down my chin and wrapped lightly around the front of my throat.
“This okay?” he whispered, watching me close.
“Yeah.”
“Awesome.” His other hand came up and pinched my nipple just hard enough that I started to bow toward his hand and when he let go, the tip was cherry red in the mirror. “See, I fuckin’ love your ass. I want to bite it. I think about it when I’m supposed to be doin’ other shit—but much as I love when you’re bent over in front of me, I can’t see your face and that kind of bums me out.”
His hips ground against my ass and his cock was right there, and then slid away again.
“Wouldn’t want you to be bummed out,” I joked softly, my eyes on his.
He watched me as his hips ground forward again and he slid inside, filling me up until I was straining onto my toes, my back arched against him.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he whispered, his gaze traveling down as he pulled out slowly and pushed back in. One hand stayed around my throat, gently holding me in place against his chest, and the other roamed all over my torso. He pinched my nipples and then soothed them with his fingertips, ran his palm lightly down my belly, slid his middle finger between my legs so he could swirl it around my clit.
“I like your mirror,” I gasped, watching as he played my body like an instrument.
“Me too.”
I watched Rumi for as long as I could, taking in how he softly kissed my shoulder and his thumb rubbed tenderly against the side of my neck and his arm banded around my waist as he thrust harder, but when my eyes met his in the mirror, I let them fall closed.
If I hadn’t, he would’ve seen too much. Because I’d had plenty of sex but I’d never ever felt as cherished as I did when Rumi touched me.
We both came like that, standing up in front of the dresser and mirror he’d bitched about for the last five years. When we were done, Rumi carried me over to the bed and left to take care of the condom. He came right back and flopped down beside me.