Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
And then I’d dug out the roller. My quads were stiff after my punishing run, but I’d usually just do a few stretches. The fact that I’d pulled it out of the gym feels like a form of divine intervention, I think with a smug-feeling grin.
She doesn’t want to date me but looks at me like I’m the juiciest piece of mango, the most decadent piece of cake.
I drop my track pants to my bed, on top of the piles of underwear and nightclothes I’d dumped there earlier, then pad naked to the bathroom. How long before she finds them there? Before she asks why?
Switching on the shower, I relish the burst of cold water against my chest as I step under it. The water heats instantly as press my hands to the tiles and tip my head under the spray, allowing the water to sluice over me. I am going to woo Mimi, woo her so fucking hard she won’t know what’s coming for her. I’m going to kill her with kindness—render her helpless by orgasm overload. I’ll make her beg for it, beg for me. And then? I suppose we’ll see what truth comes out. For both of us. We’ll see what the future holds, because the way I feel right now, fuck six months. Sixty years won’t give me my fill.
Suitably soaked, I slick my hair back from my face and reach for the bodywash, slicking it to my hand. I smear it down my chest, then farther to where my cock is still semihard at the thought of her watching earlier. Her mouth softly open, her eyes dark. I bet she’s wet after my filthy little show.
“Fuck.” I abandon all thoughts of washing and make a soapy stroke along the hard length. It feels so good. Better still when I close my eyes and imagine her in front of me. On her knees. Her pink-painted nails digging into my thigh muscles, her full lips stretched wide around my girth.
“Ungh.” As with any kind of pleasure, the first touch is sublime and melts through my body like sugar on the tongue. A sugar addiction isn’t a thing for no reason. I swipe my fist over my thick crown, one touch blending into another. The weight of my cock is a comfort, hard and slick against my palm, and the soapy upstroke a satisfying second best to her mouth.
I want to come. To come in her. Come on her. Have her on her knees in front of me. I find myself smiling at all the ways I’m going to have her as I indulge in this little prelude.
She’ll be so wet for me.
Fuck, I want it. I want to feel her on my tongue, feel her squirming to get away as I make her drip between her legs.
I swirl my palm over my glans as I let the water fall down my body in a teasing cascade. Another layer of sensation. Another flicker of memory as I tip my head back and groan her name. The rough sound echoes over the noise of the shower, but there follows a tiny gap—a divine interference or a tiny stutter in the flow, I’m not sure. What’s important is how I hear that feminine gasp. Fisting my cock, I turn my head and spot the object of my obsession on the other side of the bathroom. Her golden hair is piled on top of her head, her slim fingers clutching a downy towel at her chest.
“Have you come to join me?”
Her head moves from side to side. “My drawers were empty.”
“What was that? You’ll have to come closer,” I taunt. “I can’t hear you.”
“My pajamas have been dumped on your bed,” she says a little louder as though this is reason enough for her to be standing in here. Her eyes dart between my face and my hand as I give my cock another experimental tug.
She releases a physical, shivering breath, then ducks her head. “I was looking for my clothes.”
“In my bathroom?” I throw back my head as I force myself to keep my hand light. “Fuck, yes. This feels so much better now that you’re watching.”
“I—” She looks frantic for a moment as her fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, but when I groan her name again, she releases a stuttering breath.
“You’re thinking of me?”
“Like you’re on your knees in front of me.”
“You are so bad.” She shakes her head again as though denying my words.
“You say that like it doesn’t turn you on. Your clothes are on my bed, which is where you should be. Get in it or get in here,” I growl, still working my cock. My abs flex, my thigh muscles as hard as steel. “Then I won’t have to imagine.”
She hesitates but ultimately responds to my goading by dropping the towel where she stands. Her hand slowly rises to her hip, her expression suddenly full of incitement.