Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
God. He wasn’t even there, and I was already losing my freaking mind.
“I want to taste you so fucking bad,” he growled. His stubble tickled my inner thighs.
“Help yourself,” I whispered.
He looked up, quirking an eyebrow.
“I suck at dirty talk, okay? Just… do your thing. Please,” I added.
He chuckled, then buried his face between my legs. He kissed me through my panties, running his tongue against me until I was just about ready to rip my own panties off. But he had his arms pinning mine. He was so strong I might as well have been encased in concrete.
He had complete control. All I could do was writhe and gasp as he teased me with his tongue.
It felt like ages of agonizing bliss before he finally took a hand away from my wrist and yanked my panties down. I heard the fabric rip as he jerked them down to my ankles and then threw them to the corner. I tried not to laugh out loud when I saw Termite charge from under the couch and pick them up triumphantly. She trotted off out of sight with them in her mouth.
My focus was dragged back to Christian when his tongue slid up my folds.
“Oh, God,” I gasped.
He kept working magic with his tongue as he pushed my thighs open wider and reached up to stroke my hardened nipple with his thumb.
I ground my body into him, gasping for breath as I came, shaking all over. I had to reach down and tug him away from my sex when it grew too sensitive to his touch. He smiled triumphantly, then stood beside the couch and pulled off his clothes. I felt like I was watching an artist reveal their masterpiece at a gallery. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms.
He yanked down his pants, taking no time to drag things out before his cock burst free. I stared at it, fear mingling with excitement. He was big. He fished a condom from his discarded pants and put it on, meeting my eyes with heat and anticipation.
Christian was back above me in an instant and that huge member of his was warm and hard against my thigh. He positioned himself and used my slick arousal to slide himself in me.
I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his broad back and letting the moment absorb me. I tried to think only about the physicality of it–the casual enjoyment of his warm friction. But my stupid brain started doing things it wasn’t supposed to. I imagined what it would be like to belong to him like this any time he wanted. I pictured being his fuck toy and how much fun it’d be to watch him open up to me more and more–to be less Mr. Stone and more Christian, but only for me.
I shoved those thoughts away as he increased his pace.
I was moaning and clinging to him for dear life, my heels digging into his ass and my arms around his neck. He was breathing hard too, grunting with each thrust as he pounded himself into me more deeply than I thought possible.
It was all too much and another orgasm ripped through me. I felt my walls clenching around him. He groaned through gritted teeth and pounded into me even faster until he tensed and I could feel his cock twitch with release.
Our eyes met after, and for several long, terribly perfect seconds, everything felt right. His hair was dangling down in messy waves and I could’ve believed he loved me. It was all there in that gaze–the intensity and the longing. Then Christian suddenly broke away and got off me, heading for the bathroom to clean up.
I swallowed hard, tried to mentally toss all those feelings I shouldn’t be having in some kind of trash can, and mostly failed.
A minute later, Christian was getting his clothes back on by the couch. I wrapped a blanket around myself and got up, searching for the right words. “So… What happens next? Do we create some kind of code word if we’re looking for another round of casual sex?”
He looked down at me, eyes colder than they’d been just minutes ago. “I’ll let you know if I need to fuck you again. You can do the same. Otherwise, we need to make sure this doesn’t interfere with work. Is that clear?”
“So should I just email you or something? Because I think you probably don’t want that kind of thing on your company computer, right?”
“Are you asking for my phone number, Miss Thorn?”
I folded my arms. “Yes, unless you are going to let me create a super fun secret casual sex code. Like I could email you and say, ‘the Hoover dam is wet and ready.’ Or maybe, ‘Work has been bananas today! Emphasis on bananas.’”