Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Then, without saying another word, he leans in and takes my lips—gentle, tentative, exploring. I let my eyes flutter shut and kiss him back.
It’s been, what, three years since the last time I kissed someone who’s not related to me by blood?
This feels amazing. I feel like I’m tasting a comfort food I used to eat in childhood but haven’t come across in a long time.
I miss this—not just kissing in general, but Adam’s kiss in particular, I realize with surprise. Somehow, he managed to be firm and gentle at the same time, respectful and persistent at the same time.
“Your lips taste just as sweet as I remember,” Adam says, pulling away just enough to speak.
I say nothing. We’ve said a lot of words today, but now’s the time for something different.
I press my lips against his again, and he kisses me again--harder this time, almost like he wants to crush and bruise my lips. My insides heat up, and I feel tingles in my core.
Adam puts one hand on the back of my skull as he pulls me closer. He's messing up my hair, but I don't care.
It's been a long time since I shared my sexual side with anyone, it feels strange to find myself getting wet from a man's touch. In a good way.
Adam’s hand slides down to my back. As he kisses me more and more insistently, I let myself lean back on his strong hand and allow him lay me down on the couch.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you,” Adam says breathlessly.
My hands are grabbing onto his muscular arms like it’s my only remaining anchor to reality. My world’s spinning as Adam hovers over me, reminding me how good it feels to have a man’s weight on me. He drags his lips over my throat, making me sigh with desire.
“Do you trust me?” Adam rests his hand on my waist, dangerously close to the bottom of my dark sweater.
I nod.
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Adam says, smiling at me with a wicked glint in his green eyes.
The warm light from my floor lamp casts a yellow glow on his face, while the rest of his body lies in shadows.
He slips his fingers under my sweater and runs them up my body. Without even thinking about it, I arch my back, trying to get more contact with Adam’s skin.
“Good girl,” he says in a dark voice laced with arousal. It’s the kind of voice that makes my blood rush and my heartbeat quicken.
He called me a good girl that night, too. And I loved it. I’ve heard the phrase a hundred thousand times in my fantasies; it was starting to sound silly, but there’s nothing like a live performance to remind me how good the real thing really is.
“Thank you, Sir,” I say tentatively.
Did I really say this and not sound ridiculous at the club? It sounds so weird now.
But Adam doesn’t seem to notice anything weird about it. His eyes light up as he smirks.
“That’s right,” he says. “I’m glad to see you remember how to address me correctly. Now, let’s see if you still know how to behave and follow my instructions like a really good girl.”
Adam grabs my breasts with his hand, pushing my sweater up to reveal my pale skin. I was worried he’d be put off by my stomach, which isn’t in bad shape but definitely not as tight as it used to be.
But Adam doesn’t seem to have any problems with my body. His appreciative gaze roams over my body hungrily as he pulls my sweater all the way off.
“Take off your bra, kitten,” he orders. Smirking, he adds, “I don’t want to put another hole in another one of those.”
“Yes, Sir.” I smile as I slip my hands underneath my back.
“Mmm . . . Yeah, you look good like that,” he says as he stares at my tits, which are pushed up for him to see when I arch my back to unhook my bra.
“Thank you, Sir.” I take off my bra and let it fall onto the floor.
In response, Adam flashes me a smile before he dives down and assaults my breasts with his hands and mouth, kneading, licking, and nibbling on me.
I let my lips part as my breathing grows heavy. I wrap my arms around him, resting a hand on his head. His hair feels soft and silky to the touch.
I know how inane this sounds, but I can’t help wanting to live up to Adam’s expectations of “a really good girl.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d be slapping myself awake once I start thinking this way. But right now, it’s like I’m in an alternate reality where Adam is the reigning ruler of everything, who deserves all my adoration and obedience.