Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Then his big, cool hands drag the silk down my bare ass. I enjoy his hiss of surprise at the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear before he’s got the fabric down my upper thighs and slipped off my legs completely.
I’m absolutely naked, face down on the bed. My fingers fist in the fabric. Just a massage. Right. I only want a massage. Excitement gathers in my belly.
His big, cool hands come back to my shoulders, slightly wet with some kind of sweet-smelling oil. He doesn’t do any usual massage I’ve ever had before. Using his palms, he just starts to rub. He’s at my shoulders, but somehow the massage is already sensuous. I don’t know how to describe it, except maybe in the way he digs in his fingers, trailing at the end after his palm has dug into my muscles. Deep, too. He’s not just playing on the surface.
He’s getting real acquainted with my body. And then there’s the way I can see it clearly affecting him. He’s not an impersonal masseuse at a spa. I turn my head to watch as his whole body bends over me, his soft fingers digging in and rolling. The concentration on his face, along with the pressure of his knowing hands—damn.
I about come from that alone. Especially when he works his way to my lower back, deeply grasping onto my hips like he’s a moment away from flipping me and riding me hard.
When he lifts to get more oil on his hands, I take a huge breath and flip onto my back. I want to cover my eyes, but I’m trying to be strong. I’m trying to be better than the girl who fled her cheating boyfriend and allowed herself to believe it was her fault because she wasn’t pretty enough. I want to be all that I am and be her proudly.
So I bare my breasts, and I don’t cover my eyes, and I at least pretend that I’m proud and believe that I’m as beautiful as he proclaims I am, even if half of me is horrified he’ll run or say something beneath his breath that will break my heart. I try to remind myself that he seemed to like what he saw the other day at the lake. But insecurities war with my attempt at reasoning. At the lake, I was being wild and spontaneous. Here, there’s far too much time to think.
He gets rid of the excess oil on a cloth on the nightstand. Then, reverently, eyes on mine as if checking in to make sure I’m still with him, he hovers there without touching.
I nod even as I hold my breath.
But then he cups both of my breasts, hefting them in his palms as if to feel their full weight and shape.
“They’re real,” I say, then feel stupid for saying it. If there’s one thing I’m proud of, it’s my big, round boobs. Silly, since the only reason they’re so big is because all of me is so big. But hey, I’ve always claimed they’re my best feature, and assholes have liked them in the past.
“They’re glorious,” Remus says, holding them fully in his hands and kissing each nipple carefully.
But then he completely bypasses them and starts massaging down my stomach to one of my fat rolls.
“What are you doing?” I squeal, sitting up and unconsciously covering my breasts.
He looks confused. “Worshipping and massaging every inch of your glorious flesh.”
My mouth drops open, appalled. “Well, not there.”
Remus’s eyes look down my stomach, the last place I want him looking, and I let go of my boobs, all but doubling over to keep him from zeroing in on what I look like. “Stop it! Don’t look at me there!”
Remus’s eyes come back to mine, completely bewildered. “Why not?”
“Because,” I sputter, reaching over and dragging the sheet up over myself. “That’s not a pretty part of a woman. Go out into the hallway while I put my nightgown back on.”
“Wait. Why can’t I look at you there? It is as beautiful as every other part of you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “Don’t be a liar.”
He sits up straight. “No one accuses me of being a liar. Not even you.”
“You need to be more sensitive!”
“Why do you cover yourself and not believe me when I try to worship your beautiful body?”
Which is when I burst into tears.
“Lo-Ren!” he exclaims in shock, moving up the bed. He reaches out for me, but I twist away, giving him my back and curling away from him. I wait for him to leave. Michael hated it when I cried and would disappear until I got myself together. That will be good. I liked the way Remus was looking at me before he—
I cry even harder, putting my hands to my face as if I can hide even more. If I can just have a moment—