Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Her hips shift from side to side as she carries the water over to me. Every inch of her is made for me, just me. Nobody else, ever.
She leans down, placing the water on the table.
My hand rises toward the back of her leg. It’s so wrong. I know it is, but I do it anyway. I literally can’t help myself. I slide my hand up the back of her thigh to her ass, and then I’m lost. I can’t stop. I start caressing her ass. My cock gets somehow harder, the helm threatening to bust my zipper, when she makes a moaning noise, pushing her ass back against me, driving it against my hand.
“Bryson,” she whispers.
She doesn’t have to add the obvious, that we should stop. I hear it in her voice.
“I know,” I say huskily.
I turn my chair so I’m facing her, then take both her hips in my hands. My palms blaze with the feel of her, the closeness. My hands sink deeper into her flesh, and then I guide her back into my lap.
“Bryson,” she moans, an unmistakable pleasure in her voice.
I kiss her neck, tasting her skin as she shifts in my lap, grinding her ass against my hard cock.
“That feels so good,” I pant.
“It does?” she whimpers.
“Yeah…”
I glide my hand up her leg, toward her sex, knowing with every movement I should stop, knowing some part of me is going to regret this even as the rest of me wants nothing else.
She gasps when I push my hand down between her legs. Even through the denim, I can feel the wetness, the heat, the urgency.
I keep kissing her neck, obsessed with the taste of her, the sweat, the everything, just her. It’s like our bodies are talking to each other.
Her hips move quicker, her big juicy ass massaging my dick as I grind my hand on the outside of her jeans.
“Tell me to stop,” I growl, softly biting her neck.
“I c-can’t,” she whimpers.
That awakens the predator in me, making me snarl as I rub her pussy even faster. Then I move my hand to her button. She touches my wrist, and I stop, waiting for her to take control. To end this.
It’s unfair. I’m twice her age. I should know better.
Then her hand falls away, and she moans so I understand, as if telling me she knows she should stop too, but she can’t. She’s just as lost as I am.
I tear her button free, my head in a haze, a small voice whispering we’re at Adam’s table… sitting in one of his chairs.
Then I slip my hand down her panties, wedging it between her jeans and her pussy. She’s soaked. Drenched for me. Her juices move over my fingers as I grind my hand up and down over her lips and then her clit.
Her moans get even more urgent as I start to rub, unable to stop, addicted to the sound of her pleasure. Back and forth, her eager hips move in time with my hand.
Her pussy makes sexy, soppy noises for me the wetter she gets, my hand slick with her need, my whole being aching with the desire to be inside of her, to feel that same wetness on the helm of my aching cock and push all the way—push until her young body’s got no choice but to gift me with a future.
CHAPTER NINE
Harper
My mind struggles to catch up to what’s happening.
I take the headphones from my pocket, pretending I was listening to something. Then the tin fell, not looking at what I grabbed.
I walk out here and find Bryson in his jeans and his shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing his muscular forearms, his black-silver hair swept back, and his massive form hulking as if he was going to burst the buttons on his shirt.
Now I’m sitting in his lap, his hand rubbing against my bare pussy, his finger tickling my clit as more and more of my attention is fixated on the sensation of his hand, the firmness of it, my clit aching and throbbing the quicker he rubs.
My hips move on their own, as though—despite the nerves which cling to me—part of me knows what to do.
He kisses and bites my neck warmly. The tingles move down my spine, joining the tingles deep in my belly until my whole body is surging in celebration.
Bryson wants me, I wrote once, as well as Bryson loves me.
The latter probably will never be true.
But the former…
He’s rubbing me faster, his breath panting, my pussy making wet noises which he doesn’t find gross. If anything, his growls get even more urgent and hungrier each time it happens.
“That’s it. Come all over my hand. I can feel how close you are.”
“Yes, yes,” I whimper, the only words I can summon.
Suddenly, the tension in my belly releases, as if all the crush-fueled fantasies combine to send unstoppable fire rushing through my body.