Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
While manipulating the shampoo to ensure it coats every strand of his wild hair, the tips of my fingers brush past the mottled skin on his nape. As suspected from viewing it from afar, the texture of his skin exposes it is distressed from a burn. It’s warm to touch even with the thinness of the scars revealing his injury occurred quite some time ago.
A squeak pops from my mouth when JR snatches up my wrist for the second time. I’m not just startled by his quick grab, I’m shocked by the sheer amount of familiarity in his eyes. It’s so strong, it almost drowns out the unease they didn’t hold only moments ago.
“Do you not like being touched?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Or do you just loathe being touched by me?”
My question shocks him as much as it does me, but instead of reacting negatively, he proves it isn’t my touch he dislikes. It’s the response of his body he hates. He is once again hard, and when he places my shampoo-coated hand onto the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, he gets even thicker.
“There’s nothing wrong responding like that when someone is pampering you.” I lean into his embrace when he treks a calloused hand down my bruised cheek and across my busted lip, compliments to my accident. His touch is detrimental to my sanity, and it doubles the sparks that have been blistering between us the past two days. “Yes, even when someone is battered and bruised,” I mutter on a moan when it dawns on me what he’s asking. “Attraction has nothing to do with looks and everything to do with your soul setting on fire.”
I gather up the hand he used to point out my imperfections before requesting him to shut his eyes. When he does as asked—after a stern stink eye that warns of the repercussions if I were to run from him again—I trek the back of his hand down my budded nipple. Even with his sweatpants lined with a thick layer of fleece, I see the throbs of his cock when he learns my body is responding to his closeness in the same manner as his. It strains against the crotch of his pants, its growth so uncontrollable and appears seconds from breaking through the rigid material.
When JR’s eyes pop back open, I freeze, shocked by the wild rowdiness swarming them. He stares at me with such raw passion, even if I hadn’t caught Cedric cheating, nothing could stop the next set of events from occurring. JR’s wanton gaze activates every one of my hot buttons, not to mention the continuation of his hand’s descent of my body.
I go up in flames when he slips his hand under my shirt. He’s barely touching me, but the sensation it rips through me is almost overwhelming. I’ve never had this type of pull before. This type of craziness. And it grows more rampant when the briefest brush of his fingers down my damp panties starts an avalanche of gropes, moans, and swift maneuvering.
Before I can comprehend what’s happening or pray for it to occur sooner, my backside is planted on the vanity, and JR tugs my panties off without the slightest bit of strain fettering his features.
“Ugh,” he grunts when his caveman removal of my undergarment causes my head to flop back and my eyes to close.
I want to watch every sordid thing he does to me, but the idea that he couldn’t wait a second to drag my panties down my thighs before consuming me is too erotic to act nonchalant. To be wanted like that is euphoric, and I can see it being extremely addictive.
When I lock my eyes with JR’s and he sees the lust filling them, he switches the flickering flames brightening them to an out-of-control wildfire. After parting my legs so his wide shoulders can fill the gap, he blows a hot breath over my aching pussy before teasing the sensitive skin with the faintest tickle of his beard.
It isn’t wiry or scratchy. It represents a snowflake dusting the tip of your nose. It’s soft but not subtle and oh so teasing.
JR’s molten eyes flick from my dampened sex to my face when a shameful plea tears from my throat. “Please,” I beg again, still unashamed. “I might die if you don’t touch me.”
Although I could blame rampant horniness for my recklessness, it feels so much greater than a desire to get off. I’m alive because of him, yet I had no clue the awakening was only occurring now.
“Please.”
With his eyes boring into mine, he grips my ass, yanks me forward, then drags his tongue up my slit. My body trembles, and every ounce of air in my lungs leaves in a long, frantic moan. His tongue is as calloused as his hands and as thick as his cock.