Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Yum,” I say, popping off.
I bring my free hand between my legs because I need to come so badly.
Adrian’s eyes darken, and his fingers tighten around my head, driving me forward over his cock again. “Good girl.”
Good girl! My nipples tighten in my blouse. The words are magical to me. All I ever wanted to be called, despite my efforts at playing the bad girl.
I bob over his cock, in and out, taking him right to the back of my throat every time, sucking hard, swirling my tongue on the underside. I shove my fingers inside my panties to stroke my own flesh.
I must get too enthusiastic because he grunts, “Careful with the teeth.”
“Sorry,” I gasp. “Sor–”
He interrupts my apology by putting his cock back in my mouth. His grip at the base of my skull is firm without being rough. Controlling without inciting resistance. I really, really like this guy.
I don’t think it’s just the molly talking. He feels like a match. The fulfillment to all my fantasies of being dominated.
I give the blowjob my all. Even though I’m really turned on, I can’t quite make him get to the finish line. That’s how it is with ecstasy though. You’re already so happy, it’s hard to make the explosion go off. Not that I’m a huge user. This is my fourth time ever, and I’ve been on the party scene since I was fifteen.
I sit back on my heels, losing focus.
“You okay?” Adrian strokes the pad of his thumb down my cheek.
“Yeah. Just thirsty.”
And that’s when I know he’s the right guy. Because he puts his erection away–as painful as it must be–he shoves it back in his pants and zips up–and goes to get me water.
I kick off my shoes and sit cross-legged on his bed where he brings me a filled glass.
“How long will it last?” he asks.
“The ecstasy?” I ask, gulping down the water. “A couple hours. Why?”
He stabs his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m taking advantage. It’s wrong.”
Aw. How sweet. Grumpy bear does have a hero complex. I totally called it. But he’s also dommy. A perfect combination. Except now I’m going to have to talk him into continuing.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like alcohol,” I say. “It’s more like heightened sensations, not lowered inhibitions.”
He glowers at me with brows drawn. Grumpy hero bear.
I’m in love. With him. With this moment. This experience.
He takes the empty glass from my hand and sets it down then squats in front of me, pushing my knees wide. “So how did you want to be put to bed?”
Oh damn. He’s so sexy. Sinfully sexy. He runs his hands up the outsides of my thighs, sliding them under my skirt. His thumbs trace light circles at my inner thighs, close to the edge of my panties.
I open my mouth to say it, but no words come out.
I’m a bold girl. My dad calls me spoiled.
I’m not afraid of much of anything. But this is embarrassing. And I might hate the result.
Adrian stops advancing when I don’t speak, raising his brows in that authoritative manner he has. “Tell me, malysh.”
The word is close enough to the Ukranian that I can guess at its meaning–baby. Not kid this time.
I melt a little. Or maybe those are my panties catching fire.
“W-with a little…spanking?” I have to force the last word across my lips. It’s embarrassing as hell, but he doesn’t laugh.
He also doesn’t seem surprised. “You were a bad girl.”
A laugh bursts out of me, relief and pleasure that he’s running with this. I’m also terrified. I’ve never gotten a guy to give me more than a couple slaps. What if it hurts too much, and I hate it?
He tips his head toward the middle of the bed. “Hands and knees.”
Oh God! Oh goodie! Wait…am I doing this? My heart flops around erratically in my chest.
I’m totally doing this. I crawl onto the comfortable bed on my hands and knees and look over my shoulder at him.
“I’ll go slow. You say stop if you need me to, yes?”
More love pours into my heart. Gratitude. Joy. This guy is so perfect.
“Okay.”
He lifts my short, pleated skirt and lays it on my back. “I like your panties.”
I crane my head to look over my shoulder to see if he’s making fun of me. “They go with the outfit,” I say defensively.
Instead of sexy panties–lace or satin or a minuscule thong–I’m wearing chaste white practical panties. Because I’m supposed to be an innocent schoolgirl.
“Oh, I get that.” He gives my ass a smack, and I yelp.
Wow. Ouch. Yep, heightened sensations mean it hurts way more.
He grips the place he smacked and squeezes then releases the flesh and rubs. “It’s cute.” He slaps the back of my thigh, underneath the panties. I yelp even louder.
“Quiet, Kateryna, or I will have to gag you. I don’t want the neighbors hearing.”