Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I slide a finger into her, and she moans at the intrusion, rolling her head back on a pant.
Curling downward, I hit the spot inside her that I know will make her come undone. Her hips push back, begging for more. I don’t give it to her. Not yet.
I continue to stroke and tease her G-spot, wondering how far I can push her. Will she come all over my hand if I allow it?
Without a doubt.
But I’m not a generous man right now. She’ll get her turn, but not before I’m inside her.
With that, I retract my hand, line myself up, and thrust, burying myself to the hilt.
Fucking heaven.
Just what I needed.
Pulling out, I let my tip rest just outside of her pussy. She wiggles back, wanting me to push back in.
“What do you need?”
She wiggles her ass, but I don’t enter her yet, needing to edge her a bit more.
I swirl my hips, my cock tracing her damp skin.
“Please,” she begs.
She speaks.
A smirk spreads across my face.
“You want me to fuck you?” We both know damn well she wants to be fucked. She craves it.
“Yes.” My dick jumps at the breathy sound.
“You want me to use you?”
She pushes back, and the tip of my dick slips inside her.
“Game on, baby.”
Driving my cock into her, I feel her muscles pulse around me.
Too fucking good.
I wrap my arm around her, finding her clit, and rub it until she’s a quivering mess.
“Be a good girl and come for me.”
I start to drive my cock in and out of her, eliciting sounds that make me know she’s close.
“Oh God,” she moans, and it only incites me.
My thrusts are punishing. It’s been too long. Well overdue. And this woman is getting the full force of my drought. Her pussy tightens, and my balls do the same.
I don’t stop my pace as she unravels beneath me, making me fall over the edge too.
6
CASSIDY
Hot water cascades over my body, the steam enveloping me as I stand beneath the showerhead.
It does nothing to calm me.
Nor does it push down the bile climbing up my throat over what I just did.
I lied to him.
Well...
Nope. There is no other way to spin this.
I lied.
Maybe not outright, but I withheld the truth. My name. Who I am.
Why I let him fuck me.
I’m an awful person, and I don’t know what to do about it.
Nothing.
You do nothing.
It’s a one-time thing. You slept with a man you will never see again; it doesn’t matter that your past is connected.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
I scrub harder.
It’s a feeble attempt. Nothing I do, no amount of soap, will wash away the remnants of tonight. Nor the memory.
I allow my mind to replay every detail. Every kiss. Every touch.
Each one being wrong but oh-so right.
As the memories replay, my cheeks warm, and my skin tingles.
Why did it have to feel so good?
It’s never felt this way before for me. I thought I was broken.
After everything I’ve been through, I thought I was destined to never enjoy sex, my past and the memories never allowing me to be free enough to trust someone with my body, but he changed everything.
He’s so much more than I imagined. And he proved that over and over. It wasn’t a one-and-done. He took me over and over again. By the time he was done with me, my body was spent. I could hardly walk.
Now that I’ve had a taste, how can I move on?
There’s no choice.
“Oh God,” I moan into the steam.
This is bad. Very bad. I just wanted closure, and all I got was a slap in the face. He didn’t remember me, and that’s the bucket of ice-cold water that washes away the need for him.
We are two strangers who had a one-night stand. No biggie.
Now, I can go about my life.
Bullshit.
I meant nothing to him. Despite that hurtful truth, I let him inside me. I allowed him to consume me in ways I’ve never allowed anyone else. It was a night I’ll never be able to forget.
And the worst part, I didn’t even get what I came for…
No closure happened.
I’m cursed to have Aiden Slate haunt me for the rest of my life.
My heart hammers in my chest as regret rages a war inside me.
Can I just walk away with this memory? Will I even be able to enjoy it knowing it stemmed from a huge lie?
No. It’s fine. It was an omission of truth, but it’s not my fault he forgot me and didn’t realize who I was. That’s on him, right?
As the water courses over my skin, I still can’t shake the feeling, though. The truth weighs heavy on my conscience, threatening to drown me in a sea of guilt.
It is my fault.
All of it.
With trembling hands, I lather my hair, the fragrant shampoo mingling with the steam. While it should relax me, each stroke feels mechanical. I’m going through the motions, attempting to wipe him away.