Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
I do as he tells me, my breath catching when I trail my fingertips up the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, stopping before I reach my apex. “It makes me shiver.”
“In a nice way?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He fights to keep his breath steady. “Now. Lightly stroke the seam of your pussy. Just enough to part the flesh. Let it know you’re coming to play, then go back to touching your thighs.”
I’ve cleaned myself between my legs every shower I’ve taken in my life, but it has never tingled in the wake of my touch. I’ve never squirmed and gasped in response to a simple slip of finger through softness or felt a pooling of liquid follow behind, my toes stretching, knees trembling, breath stuttering in and out.
“I know you want to keep touching yourself there, but we’re going to bring you closer to the edge first.”
“The edge of what?”
“I’m going to show you, angel.” He loosens his tie with jerky movements and I can tell he’s trying not to openly stare at my sex, but he’s failing. “Dear God…” he mutters.
“What?” I ask, teasing my hips with circular strokes of my fingertips.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“You can say it. I want you to say it.”
His chest lifts up and down heavily. “That’s a cunt fit for a fucking king,” he says in a voice rubbed raw. “And if I was a king, I’d sell my kingdom for one pump in that little thing.”
A gasp spears upward in my chest, an unknown part of me coiling tight, so tight, between my thighs. I twist to avoid the increasing ache, but I can’t. It’s in me, a part of me, it’s everywhere. Alive. And now I’m thinking about Caleb, this restrained man in his sophisticated suit, moaning himself hoarse while he moves on top of me, his sturdy hips rearing back and punching forward, buttocks sweaty, flexing.
I’ve never found any of this imagery appealing, but I do…when it comes to him.
My body absorbs the moving images in my imagination like a sponge soaks up water, my palms closing over my breasts and twisting. “Oh, my goodness,” I sob, because the golden wave that starts at my nipples and flows down into my lower body is sinful. Like melted butter gripping my most private places and stiffening, yanking slowly.
“Good girl, Ashley. Tease yourself.” His breathing is shallow. Harsh. “You’re too young to have babies. Those pretty little nipples are purely for pleasure right now. They’re for playing with, plain and simple.”
“Is…is that what you would do with them?” I ask, shocking myself, but not enough to stop what I’m doing. Slipping my tank top down, so I can touch my nipples bare. Skin to skin. I’m chewing my lip in despair over needing to know his answer. Some part of me is certain his voice, his words, his presence are the answer to my sensual pain.
“You want to know what I’d do with your tits, angel?” I hear the creak of his chair as he leans forward. “I’d eat you out until you’re nice and drowsy. Then I’d sit you on my lap and suck on your nipples while my middle finger jiggles your virgin asshole.”
I’m whipped by need so dense, it’s a jungle and I can’t see two feet in front of me.
My fingers fly down to my sex out of pure necessity, moans cracking in my throat as I slide eager digits through my drenched flesh, desperately searching for the source of my incredible misery.
“That’s it, Ashley. Find your clit, It’s the sensitive spot at the very top of your slit. Higher, higher…even high—there.” My whimper is high pitched and urgent. “There you go. Rub it quickly. When you feel a gathering of nerves and you sense a storm is about to break, circle your fingers faster. Press deeper and grind, if you need to. You deserve this.”
For some reason you deserve this makes me forget my surroundings. Forget what I’m doing and focus on the why. Release release release. I deserve it.
“I feel it,” I manage, my tone choppy, pleasure zeroing in beneath my touch, like I’ve found a secret target that has been waiting for my arrow. “I-I feel it.”
“Take it, angel. Be fucking selfish.”
I moan as the storm doesn’t simply break, it explodes, my intimate flesh drawing in so tight that my moan becomes a scream, tears leaking from my eyes and coursing down my temples, a ripple of appeased hunger eating me alive, wracking my entire body with pleasure so immense, I can’t see the edges of it.
I fly out the other side of it…renewed. A different person.
A force.
And there’s a waiting pair of arms that signal safety, acceptance. Not ownership, but a place to go and own myself. I throw myself into them, close my eyes and go limp, secure in my belief in another human being for the first time in my life.