Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
She squirms when I move lower. I lick her slit from top to bottom while working her pants down her thighs. God, I missed her taste. I trail wet kisses down her inner thighs and calves until I’ve freed her feet. In this position, the blood flow is restricted in her arms. She’ll feel pins and needles soon, so I hurry to remove my own sweatpants. When we’re both naked from the waist down, I grab the velvet bag from the center of the bed and shake out the contents.
“Sav,” she says with big eyes—not acting this time—when I uncap the gel.
“Shh.” I kiss her to shut her up. “I know what I’m doing.”
She’s quiet, trusting, and it loosens something in my chest. I smear a generous amount of gel around her clit before rubbing it in. She bucks beneath me, her whole body straining as I watch that little nub swell right before my eyes.
I’m going to buy ten tubes of stimulating gels.
I go back to massaging her clit, simultaneously spreading the heat and giving her the friction she needs. When her lower body contracts, I grip the root of my cock and drag the shaft through her slick folds. I don’t want to penetrate her yet because I’m too close to coming, and I want to make this last.
I circle the crown around her clit, making her a promise. “This time, you’re coming on my cock.”
The gel mixes with her arousal and my precum, easing my way. It only takes two seconds before I feel it.
God fucking damn.
An inferno of heat rushes over the crest and down my shaft until flames cover my entire dick. The burn turns from hot to ice-cold in another second until, finally, a cool sizzle settles under my skin. My cock swells to a painful size. The pressure in my balls increases. Everything pulls tight.
“Goddamn, Anya.”
It’s the cruelest torture. I can’t hold back. The icy burn flares when I sink inside her. Her heat triggers a deeper burn that reminds me of that time I peeled chilies and ended up with my fingertips on fire. They burned the whole night long. Running cold water over them only aggravated the scorching heat under my skin.
“Move, Sav,” she moans, sounding in as much agony as I am. Her breath is sweet and warm on my lips. “Please.”
I frame her face between my hands and thrust. It only takes a few strokes before she throws back her head and falls apart with a mewl. Her inner muscles clamp down, triggering my own release. I kiss her as my climax erupts and that cold heat reaches an uncomfortable level. I hold her to me and pour my release into her body, filling her with hot ribbons of cum. I empty every drop inside her before rolling us onto our sides without breaking our contact. Her pussy flutters with aftershocks that continue to milk my cock long after I’m dry.
“Arms,” she breathes against my neck.
I pull off her blazer and rub her arms to get her blood circulation going while locking her to me by throwing my good leg over her thigh. She’s still wearing the blouse I tore and the lacy bra underneath. I haven’t removed my T-shirt, but I prefer to keep it on. It hides the unsightly scars and bumpy flesh. I want to stay like this, inside her, and fall asleep while the burn slowly dissipates to leave a residue tingle under our skins. I drag that unique smell of sunshine and flowers into my lungs, filling my nostrils with her scent and reveling in the fact that our breathing evens out in tandem.
Too late, I remember I haven’t fed her. I didn’t ask if she’d eaten a greasy burger and fries. I should’ve thought about dinner, about ordering a healthy meal instead of making her stop for take outs.
Tomorrow.
I’ll feed her tomorrow.
I pull her closer, knowing it’s a mistake, but I’d rather hack off my good leg than let her go.
I’m every bit the monster I am on the inside on the outside now, a nightmare to look at and a broken man that will never be whole again, but she had her chance. I played fair. I gave her an out. She didn’t take it.
Her bad, my gain.
Chapter
Fourteen
Anya
* * *
I wake up to the smell of coffee and pancakes…and to Saverio rolling his wheelchair toward me with a tray balanced in his lap.
“Morning, treasure,” he says, his smile crooked and sexy in a just-woken, still-warm-and-fuzzy kind of way.
His onyx black hair is disheveled, the ends sticking up in a bed-messy style, and stubble darkens his jaw. The eyepatch hides his artificial eye. He wears a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, and his feet are bare.
“Brought you breakfast,” he says, stopping next to the bed.