Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
All I know is that I’m suddenly shot through with rainbows and starlight and some very passionately dancing disco unicorns. When I come back into my skin, I’m clinging to Sam’s shoulders with my legs wrapped around his hips, grinding into what feels like his waist as he sucks and licks and bites—damn, the biting, who knew that would feel that amazing?—my breasts.
“Too tall,” I pant, moaning as I writhe beneath his brilliant, wicked mouth. “Why do you have to be so tall?”
He lifts his head, arching a brow as he asks in a breathy rumble, “Most women are into tall guys. It’s a thing.”
“But if you were shorter, I could feel if you were excited too,” I say, my inner sex kitten as shameless as ever. But Sam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to love it when I employ radical honesty in the bedroom, a fact that makes me feel confident enough to add, “Is it wrong that I want to grind on your cock instead of your waist?”
“Jesus, Jessica,” he says, tugging at the back of my knee until I release my vise grip on his torso. “Do you know what it does to me when you say shit like that?”
I shake my head, mesmerized by the hunger-pain-longing on his face. “No, but I think…you dig it?”
“It makes me crazy,” he says, shifting forward, until his hips hover between my spread legs. “It makes me want to be inside you, buried so deep there’s no doubt in your mind how much I want you.”
Then he drops his hips, pressing against me through our clothes, and I swear to God I nearly come just from that, from the feel of his massive cock pulsing against my clit.
But then The Representative from the Office of Virginal Concerns raises her fearful head to remind me that a large tampon can be a little too much down there at times and to pose a few important questions/concerns:
What if Sam and I are as well-matched as a Great Dane and a field mouse and our smoking hot sex life is over before it begins?
What if he breaks my vagina and I end up in a hospital bed next to my mother, who will have a second minor heart attack when she learns I was trying to have premarital sex under her roof?
What if I’m just “built different” in the worst way and am too dainty to have full-on, penetrative sex with anyone? That might not have been so bad before Sam. But now I’m practically dying for some dick, his in particular. I would literally sell a kidney—or at least a few slivers of my liver—on the black market for just one night with him.
But as he pops the button at the top of my khakis and slips that much-longed-for hand down the front of my panties, even a single finger feels like it’s stretching me down there. Stretching in a wonderful way, but also…a terrifying one.
“Am I freakishly small?” I ask, even as I arch into his finger, pretty sure the feel of that single digit moving inside me is the best thing I’ve ever felt.
“You’re tight, but no,” he says, kissing my throat. “There’s nothing freakish about you. You just need to relax.”
“But what if I can’t relax?” I ask, my pulse racing faster. “What if this is as relaxed as I get, and we can never have sex and all our carnal dreams are about to be dashed on the rocks of eternal despair?”
He pulls back, grinning down at me for a beat before he apparently sees the crazy in my eyes and his expression sobers. He shifts his finger back to my entrance, slowly circling my clit as he says, “Nothing’s going to be dashed on the rocks of eternal despair. And I have a good idea how to help you relax.”
I arch a dubious brow, but his fingers are working their magic again, making my voice breathy and hopeful as I ask, “What idea is that?”
“I think it’s best if I show you,” he says, his fingers curling over the top of my pants and underwear. “Lift your hips.”
I hesitate a moment and Sam looks up, asking in a husky rumble, “You trust me?”
I nod and obey, my breath rushing out as he drags the rest of my clothes down my legs and tosses them onto the floor. Then, he’s between my thighs, gently spreading them wider as he settles onto the mattress to study my most intimate places like he’s searching for the glitch in a buggy batch of code.
I’m about to ask him if there’s something weird going on down there when he makes a soft groaning sound and whispers, “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. How wet you are for me,” and drops a sweet, lingering kiss on my clit.