Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
She wraps her legs around my waist, tugging me closer. Then breaking the kiss to say, “You’d better let me objectify your cock now.”
It takes me a beat to reconnect her words to the night we met—when she wanted to suck me off and I stopped her so I could eat her sweet, perfect pussy instead.
I have no regrets from back then. But I know I’d regret stopping this. One glance at the oven clock tells me there’s not nearly enough time for the things I want to do to her in bed. My flight leaves in a few hours. But there’s time for more rule-breaking. There is absolutely fucking time.
After I remove my apron, I scoop my hands around her ass and lift her off the counter. “Get down on your knees. Take my dick out. And suck me off like you do when I picture your mouth every goddamn night.”
“Finally,” she teases as she drops down to her knees and tugs at my sweats.
I’m so turned on, so aroused I feel like a hedonist taking the pleasure of her mouth as she pushes down my briefs. When my cock springs free, she slides her teeth across her bottom lip, like she approves of my dick.
“Will that work for you?” I ask playfully.
She smiles. “Your dick will do.”
“I want to fuck the innuendo right out of your mouth,” I growl.
“Then do it.” With mischief in her eyes, she says, “After all, you wanted to have fun besides hockey. Here’s your chance.”
A laugh bursts from me. A fucking laugh as a prelude to a blow job. Who even is this woman in my kitchen on her knees, about to lick the head of my dick? But the second her pink tongue teases the tip, questions fall out of my head, along with thoughts and reason.
I’m nothing but a livewire as my roommate twirls her tongue along the tip, treating me like a piece of candy, humming as she goes.
“You look fucking incredible,” I murmur.
That catches her attention. Josie stops. “Hold on,” she says, and like she just remembered she’s wearing them, she darts up a hand, removes her glasses, and sets them on the counter. She returns to my aching dick in seconds. While she draws me back into the warmth of her mouth, she reaches up and undoes her hair from the messy bun. It falls in wild, just-been-fucked waves over her shoulders.
I’m toast. “You’re my sexy librarian,” I say, then I push in, “taking off your glasses.” I thread a hand through those lush chestnut locks as she parts her lips wider. “Letting down your hair.”
She murmurs something against my dick. I’m not sure what, but it sounds like for you.
That’s all I need to hear. I curl both hands around her head. She grips my thigh with her right hand while she curls the left around the base of my cock. She’s pumping me and sucking me, and I’m sizzling everywhere. Crackling in my cells. My bones vibrate with hot, urgent need like they do every damn night when I’m alone in my bed. “I picture this,” I mutter, beginning my confession.
She looks up at me with wide eyes, asking for more of the story.
“At night. I get off to you.”
With a throaty yessss, she urges me to thrust deeper.
“Bet you want to see that,” I say, remembering how she stared wantonly at me fisting my cock the night we met.
She nods.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wished you’d come up the stairs,” I say, needy, hungry.
She groans. Keeps going. Me too. I’m pumping and confessing. “I listen for your footsteps as I fuck my hand. I picture you turning the corner into my room.” A spark jolts through me. My thighs quake. “I see you in the doorway.”
Heat builds as I thrust between those gorgeous lips. “I tell you to ride me,” I say, then all the bliss crashes into me at once—a punishing, ruthless wave.
“Coming,” I warn, and there’s no stopping this orgasm. It’s got me in its grip and she holds on, her fingers circling my dick, her mouth clamping down as I spill. She swallows my release.
I grunt and groan, enjoying every single second of fucking my roommate’s mouth.
She sucks me dry with a satisfied sound. Seconds later, she pops off, wiping her wet lips with the back of her hand. Her grin is both devilish and angelic as she licks her lips, then nods to the counter and the cinnamon pastries. “We really should put those in the oven.”
Somehow, it’s not awkward as we finish baking the cinnamon treats, stopping a couple times to take pictures like we did outside the theater. It’s almost like we slide right back into the friendship zone—the one we’ve been living in for the last month or so. The roomie rule, so to speak. “A record of the list,” she says as she snaps each pic. “And I like records of things.”