Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Bull, you’re asking me questions I don’t fuckin’ know the answers to.”
“Is it a coincidence the report says his last name is Moore?”
“Just back the hell off.”
“Fine, then tell me why the bastard is the spitting image of you from thirty-five years ago?”
I wake up with a gasp, my body soaked in sweat.
“Motherfucker,” I growl, shoving my face into my hands as I try to slow my rapid heartbeat.
I keep having the same dream. No, not a dream. It’s a memory that’s burned in my brain. A memory that I don’t want, and a thought that feels like a truth—a truth that feels like a fucking atom bomb. I wish I could go back and never walk toward Dad’s office that day. I fucking wish that damn door had been closed, locked, and soundproofed.
It wasn’t. I can’t erase what I heard, and now it’s just a memory that keeps me from sleeping through the night. I take a deep breath and stumble out of bed. My bed is empty. That didn’t used to be the norm, but it has been lately. After that morning when I woke up with Gabby in my bed, I’ve been alone. Maybe she poisoned my fucking dick. I don’t know, and right now, I don’t care enough to find out. A woman is the last thing I need in my life, my hand works just fine.
I get out of bed and jump in the shower, letting the hot water soothe me. I close my eyes, breathing deeply as the steam surrounds me and the heat works its magic on my muscles. I always wake up in the morning hard. You would think that would be impossible after having a nightmare, but it never seems to stop my body from wanting some type of release. I chalk it up to the fact that over the last year, I’ve rarely allowed my body to go a night without sex. I haven’t touched anyone since the morning I woke up with Gabby in my bed. To be honest, I don’t even remember fucking her that night.
I push those thoughts away because they are making my dick go limp. If I’m going to keep on this self-imposed no woman rule, then my dick needs to get some satisfaction with Mr. Hand. That’s just the way it is.
I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, gripping it tightly. Closing my eyes once more, I’m not a bit surprised to see her face appear in my mind. I should be scared, but ever since the night we had dinner, Thea is the one woman who continues to invade my nightly fantasies. Visions of Thea’s body open and waiting, taunts me. I can imagine her golden body stretched before me, freckles sparingly—yet lovingly—painted over her body with no rhyme nor reason.
My grip gets tighter on my cock as I stroke it harder, imagining using one hand to push against Thea’s ass, popping her ass higher in the air. The smell of sex permeates the air around me as my precum slides down my cock, creating a wet sound with each thrust of my hand.
The fantasy takes me away and I can almost believe she’s here with me, begging me to fuck her as I rake my shaft against her dripping, wet pussy. I grind the head of my dick against her slippery, throbbing clit before positioning myself at her ass. I’d push in just the head, popping through the tight ring of muscles—using her own cream to lubricate my cock just to make it easier on her. She cries out my name as I sink deeper inside, not stopping until I’m all the way in. I push my whole body against her sleek frame, dominating her. I set a quick pace, knowing I won’t be able to stop from coming soon. She’s too fucking perfect. I slap my hand against her ass cheek, making her cry out as I continue to push in and out of her tight hole. She cries out as I spank her again. I wrap her hair in my hand, tugging on it to bend her neck back as I lean heavily over her, grinding my cock deep inside her as I bottom out.
“Who do you belong to? Tell me,” I growl.
“Dom…”
“Tell me.” I tighten my hold in her hair and hiss my words next to her ear, letting my warm breath caress her skin.
“You, Dom. I belong to you,” she cries as I use my free hand to pinch her clit, then grind against it. With my other hand on her hip, I push into her again, grinding my fingers in her pussy against the swollen bundle of nerves that are aching for release. When she comes, I explode inside of her.
The minute my cum splashes against the hand that’s working my cock, the fantasy is gone. As I finish coming, Thea's body vanishes, and I let out a groan. I’m left feeling alone and fucking empty. I clean up with a growl. What the hell is going on with me? It never fails these days. Thea’s is the face that comes to mind when I get myself off. The fantasies have gotten so real that it feels like she’s here with me. I do not know where it’s coming from. Maybe—because I’ve sworn off women—my brain automatically picks the one woman I know I can’t have. Hell if I know. It’s probably a good thing that Thea and I don’t run in the same circles. She’d be damn hard to face after the fantasies I’ve been having.