Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
The phone goes wonky, bouncing all over the place for a second, and I see the ceiling of her bedroom. But then she’s back, holding up a vibrator with a sexy smirk. It’s still smaller than me, but I want to see her fuck herself with it so damn bad I nearly beg.
She moves around, setting the phone up somehow because then I can see her teasing the toy along her entrance and her other hand spreading her lips to give me a clear view.
“Do it. Fill that pretty pussy and pretend it’s me.”
Her mouth drops open in a gasp as she pushes in the tip and then a couple of inches, never breaking eye contact with me. “Mmm,” she moans, going deeper and deeper. “I dream about you stretching me, wonder what your piercing would feel like—in my throat, in my pussy.”
Pre-come leaks out of my cock and I slip my hand over it, gathering it to spread down my length. “I dream about fucking you hard, my hand around your neck to feel the vibration of you crying out my name as you come. Your pussy’d squeeze me so tight, sucking me off so good.”
Joy moves a hand up to her throat, playing at choking herself the way I said I would.
“You want to go soft for me, baby? Lay back like a pillow princess and let me fuck you rough and raw while you take it, knowing I’ll make you feel good?” I have no idea what I’m saying, but Joy’s earlier words about wanting a soft woman chapter come back to me. But she’s more than that too. “Or do you want to be in control? Ride me, use me for your pleasure, and not let me come until you say I can? Edging me over and over until I’m crazed for you.”
Her eyes light up equally with both options, and honestly, both have me about to explode too.
“I’m close, Dalton,” she moans as she returns her hand to her clit, fucking herself hard and fast with the toy.
“Me too.”
Silently agreeing, we go quiet, focusing on our own pleasure as we watch each other intently. I wish I was there to see it in person, but this is good. So fucking good.
I can see her body getting tenser, every muscle going tight as her head falls back to the pillow. I force my hand to slow, not wanting to miss the sight of Joy’s orgasm. I wouldn’t miss this for a damn championship cup.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby. Let me see you. Show me how you shatter,” I growl. My face is nearly pressed to the phone screen, and if I could, I’d crawl through the damn thing to be with her as she comes.
Her cry is loud and stuttered as she spasms violently, and I can see her pussy pulsing around the toy that she’s pushed in deep and held in place. Her fingers tap at her clit, drawing out her pleasure. “Yesss . . .” she moans.
I’m done for.
I tried to simply watch, but my hand has a mind of its own, jerking my cock hard and fast. When she meets my hungry eyes with lust-filled ones of her own, I feel heat rush down my spine, through my balls, and up my cock. “Uhhh,” I grunt as cum erupts over my hand and shoots onto my stomach.
“Fuck, I want that,” she whispers, and though I’m still coming, I see her little grin as she watches me blow for her.
Catching our breath, we smile at one another.
“That was . . .” she pants.
“Fucking awesome?” I offer.
She laughs, slipping the toy from herself, dropping it off to her side, and relaxing heavily into her pillow. “Yeah, that.”
“Next time, I want to see your tits,” I tell her.
“You assume there’s going to be a next time?” she teases, but she draws a finger down her sternum, and even through her T-shirt, I can tell her nipples are hard as diamonds.
I throw her one of my signature arrogant smirks, hoping she’s as charmed by it as everyone else is. “Hoping and crossing my fingers and toes for it.” I hold up crossed fingers so she can see I’m telling the truth.
Her smile melts at the edges, going softer and less sure, but all she says is, “We’ll see.”
The buzz is wearing off, and she’s starting to think about what we’ve done. Or more likely, overthink about it. I can see it all over her face, but I don’t want to see her regret, so I jump up from the couch, taking my phone with me as I head to the bathroom for a towel to clean up.
“Wait! Is that where all the magic happens?” she asks as I walk through my primary bedroom. “Show me!”
“Hang on. I’ll give you the full tour.” In the bathroom, I clean up and then move the phone around. “This is my bathroom . . .”