Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
I’m looking to make her my girlfriend.
I might take her as my prisoner if I have to, but I’d like to give this a shot the right way first.
Her breathing steadies, but she still lies against the seat like a broken doll. One hand rests on her tummy, the other hanging off the seat. I can’t bite back a smile at how fucking spent she looks.
I want to make her come again and again, but that’s probably enough for her first time.
Besides, I want to hold her.
I ease down on the seat, careful to adjust my aching cock, then I grab my pretty broken doll and tug her against me.
She’s still feeling out of it after that orgasm, so she curls her legs up on the seat behind her and rests her head on my shoulder.
I feel it in my fucking chest when she does.
I fight the instinct to grab her and pull her closer. This is a good first step, but she’s vulnerable right now. I don’t want to scare her off.
I do want to touch her, though. Can’t stop myself from touching her. I caress her face and slide a hand down her neck. When I pull her close and she nuzzles my neck, my heart nearly fucking stops.
I can’t be in love with her already, but I don’t know how else to explain what I feel right now.
I’ve never been in love with anyone, so I guess what the fuck do I know about how fast it can happen?
All I know is I’d rather die than leave this embrace, and when the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building, I curse myself for not having the foresight to tell Hugh to drive around the city before we took her home.
To be fair, I wasn’t sure how this would go.
I know last night she went soft on me once things got sexual, but I wasn’t sure if it was a fluke or if I’d get that side of her again.
Sleepily, she starts to sit up. “Are we home?”
God, I wish.
I have half a mind to tell Hugh to forget it, to take us back to my place so she can spend the night, but I don’t want to do anything to fuck up this perfect end to the evening, either.
I don’t know if it feels as good to her as it does to me, but if it does, she’ll surely want to feel it again, too.
“Yeah,” I say gruffly.
Her gaze meets mine briefly, but she looks away just as fast. Her cheeks are rosy, her gaze still a little hazy.
I watch her hastily wrap the dress around her body and tie the little belt.
“I’ll walk you inside,” I say.
She bites down on her bottom lip uncertainly but doesn’t argue.
Hugh opens the door, and Sophie stumbles out.
I smirk with satisfaction at her wobbly balance and grab her extra dinner box off the bar.
I know her apartment is empty—I made sure it would be—and as we head into the building and make our way to her dorm, I’m sorely fucking tempted to invite myself inside.
I imagine pushing open the door when she tries to close it, dropping her dinner box on the counter, then picking her up and wrapping those pretty legs around my waist. I carry her down the hall as I tear off her new dress. I imagine taking her to her bed and throwing her down, freeing my aching cock and fucking her senseless.
Then we get to her door.
She stops and looks up at me, biting her bottom lip and looking shy.
All I want right now is to kiss her, so I do.
She gasps softly against my mouth, but she doesn’t fight it. She lets me push her back against the door and tangle my fingers through her loose hair. Her hand slides around my neck, and she lets me plunder her mouth like I want to plunder that sweet fucking pussy.
Maybe she knows I’m fighting a war with myself, so she’s sweet and permissive and gives me just enough to get me through the night.
When I finally force myself to break the kiss, I press my forehead against hers, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Thank you for dinner,” she says softly.
My lips tug up with wry amusement. “Thank you for dessert.”
Her cheeks flush a pretty rosy color, and I can’t help chuckling as I hand her the box she brought from the restaurant.
She unlocks her door and steps inside.
“Your roommates are gone,” I tell her, shoving my hands in my pockets and leaning against the doorjamb since I know I’ll have a hard time leaving if I go inside.
She turns back to frown at me in confusion. “Where are they?”
“I sent a second car for them after you left. They’re at some trendy bar I knew you’d hate. This way, you can finish your homework.”