Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The waitress arrived at the table with our entrees. She placed each dish in front of us, coming right at the end of a tense conversation. She refilled our glasses then walked away.
I didn’t have an appetite when we arrived, and I didn’t have one now. I was nervous and relieved at the same time. It was the first time I felt secure with him, like this relationship was more than just a trial run, like he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
He dropped his linen across his lap then cut into his steak, elbows on the table, hungry like a bear.
I watched him for a while.
He stared at me as he chewed, never uncomfortable by my scrutiny.
I grabbed my fork and dragged it through the risotto.
He ate in silence, watching me as I watched him, not filling the silence with unnecessary conversation. Like he was comfortable enough just to be there with me.
Just the way I was comfortable with him.
When we entered his bedroom, he took off his clothes like he felt suffocated by them. Whenever he was home, he never wore a shirt, only wore sweatpants when he visited the rest of the house, even if it was in the middle of winter. He seemed more comfortable in his bare skin, like he was in a constant state of summer.
I unzipped my dress and let it slide off my body, revealing the bra and thong underneath. My back was to him, but I somehow felt his stare, felt it right on my ass. I lifted my ankle to slip off one heel then the other, still feeling his presence, hot as the sun.
He came up behind me, his dark chest hitting my back as his arm hooked around me. His head dipped, and his mouth was on my shoulder and neck, kissing and tasting the skin, his arm squeezing me like I was trying to get away. His hand slipped underneath my bra, gripped one of my tits, and squeezed it.
My head tilted back into him, and I let him have me, my hand gripping his big forearm, feeling his hard dick in my lower back. His other hand moved to my thong and pulled it over my ass to make it come free before his fingers pressed into my clit and rubbed in a circular motion.
I released a quiet gasp when I felt his touch, my nails digging into his forearm as his hand continued to grope my tit. He was aggressive in his touch, like he wanted to make me come before we even got to the bed.
I almost did—but then he pulled his hand away.
He scooped me up from behind like I weighed nothing and adjusted me in his arms before he dropped me on the bed. He grabbed my hips and dragged me to the edge before he gripped the backs of my thighs and spread me apart.
Then he guided his monster cock to my entrance and pulled me down over him, clutching me by the hips until most of his dick was sheathed in my slickness. Once he was fully buried, he paused to release a quiet moan, a low growl like it was the first time he’d had me. He adjusted his footing at the edge of the bed and pushed himself a little farther inside me. When I winced, he stopped. “I’ll be a gentleman tonight, sweetheart.” He kept my thighs pinned back as he thrust inside me, keeping a fast pace that never went too deep, stopping just before he did too much damage. “But just tonight.”
It was the deepness of his voice, his choice of words, the size of his dick—all of it made me come, holding on to his wrists for dear life. The tears burned before they released, and once they streaked down my cheeks, they took my makeup for the ride. I felt them drip down my cheeks as he fucked me faster. As his dick hardened and my climax burst his ego. I didn’t realize my iron grip until I let go and left marks behind.
He never cared if I scratched him or made him bleed. Probably didn’t even notice the damage. The fair skin between his black ink had turned a blotchy red, patches of redness across his chest and stomach. The veins in his neck were distinct, like rivers on a map. He gripped me harder as he prepared himself to finish, careful not to push his dick farther than my body preferred.
But I was his woman, and I wanted him to have all of me.
I reached for his hips and tugged, pulling him deeper than he’d been before.
The look on his face, the smolder mixed with the arrogant smirk, was so damn sexy. “If you want it, sweetheart…” He gave me all of himself as his hand went to my neck and squeezed, squeezed me like a possession rather than a person, like a whore rather than his woman. He plowed himself fully inside me and got off on my moans and whimpers as he finished, treating me as harshly as I asked him to.