Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Then, do it again. Come for the man who owns you.” His teeth sank into my shoulder, and his fingers found my clit. It took barely any pressure—just the slightest pinch and roll—and my legs shook, my body bucked. My thighs locked around his hand, but he wouldn’t let me force his fingers away, and I writhed, trembling against him.
When my body relaxed, he eased his hand from between my legs and propped my limp body up to slide from beneath me. I lay against the mound of pillows, breathing heavy, my legs spread, droplets of sweat beading on my brow. He rose from the bed and gazed down, admiring me with open, unabashed desire.
“May I take a picture of you?” He slipped a hand into the pocket of his trousers, adjusting his obvious erection, but in no way disguising it.
I nodded in fervent agreement, but he held up a warning hand. “Don’t move. Not an inch. Not so much as a deep breath. I want to capture exactly this.”
He went to the armoire and retrieved a digital camera. I’d expected him to just use his phone, but I should have known that he wouldn’t have overlooked such an important detail in stocking our special retreat. He stood beside the bed, and I wet my lips, trembling with nerves and excitement. We’d taken plenty of pictures and videos of ourselves in the past. The feeling of vulnerability and exposure was more thrilling than the first drop on a roller coaster, and we loved to look at them later. Maybe we were a little vain, but we looked fantastic fucking each other.
He paused to take me in before framing me in the screen on the back of the camera. He took a long time fiddling with the settings, longer, I thought, than necessary. As in all things, he liked to draw out the suspense. I waited, breathless, and finally, he pushed the button, grinning down at me the whole while. “I want to remember this night forever.” He corrected himself, “I want to remember every night forever, but this one especially.”
“May I offer a suggestion, Sir?” I asked, my fingers flexing, stroking the silk bedspread as though it were my own skin.
He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Go ahead.”
The permission to speak freely spiked want through my veins in anticipation of his answer before the question was even spoken. “I could touch myself, and you could make more mementos.”
He leaned his head to one side in mock consideration. “All right, Sophie.”
My hand slid down my chest, between my breasts, skimming the bottom curves of them. He snapped another photo, his eyes darting between the viewfinder and me. I circled the nipple of one breast, wet my fingertip on my tongue, and did it again. I could have teased myself longer, but I gave in and let my fingers travel down my stomach, over the rise of my pubic bone. One fingertip brushed the tip of the hood of my clit, which was swollen and protruding from the slaps Neil had given me. My sore, weary nerves sent conflicting messages to my brain, and in my struggle between feeling too much and wanting to feel so much more, my hand seemed to slip into autopilot. I moaned and tipped my head back on the pillows.
The camera quietly snapped again. “Open your legs. Wide enough for me to see every grasp, every quiver of that beautiful cunt.”
“Oh god,” I whimpered. I pinched my nipple between my thumb and forefinger and molded my palm to the curve of my breast.
The bed shifted. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I watched him settle between my legs, the lens intimately close to my vulva. The camera whirred.
I was almost there, pleasure building and spreading, coiling tight in my groin. Neil tossed the camera aside and hooked his arms beneath my knees, jerking me down the bed. He knocked my hand aside and buried his mouth between my labia, lapping my clit with speed that had me convinced that Neil’s tongue was the strongest muscle in his body. I shouted, “I’m coming!” and my thighs squeezed his head. My climax left me jerking and shivering. He sat up and wiped his hand down his shining chin.
He reached down to unzip his pants and kick free of them. I was still floating back down when he covered my body and the wide tip of his cock parted me. He took the camera from beside me on the bed and pointed the lens at my face. “One more. So, I can remember what it was like the first time I fucked my wife.”
The light on the camera flickered, and he threw it aside, moving to guide himself farther inside me. My vagina was snug and pillowy, and though I was dripping wet, it caused him a moment’s trouble to penetrate me. He slipped in an inch then withdrew to slick my fluids over my vulva, painting a wide stripe over my clit and down again. He filled me with every thick, rigid inch while I bucked and babbled. His hand sank into my hair as his cock sank into my body, and he tilted my head back to look me in the eyes.