Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I enjoy his. Being small always made me feel less feminine, but with Tank that isn’t true. The way he picks me up and carries me around makes me feel cherished. He moved my body where he wanted it as we made love. It was the most feminine I’d felt in my life. Maybe being dominated by a man shouldn’t do that for me, but it does.
My hands roam his body as he washes every inch of mine. He takes his time, not missing one square inch of me. I thought after last night I might be sore, but right now all I feel is happy.
“When do I get to see you box?” I ask, peeking up at him. I should have known he was a fighter. Once he said it, I wondered how I missed that. He’s built for it. I knew he had to do some kind of training with his muscle mass, and well, after last night, his stamina.
“Uh, I have a match this week…” His words trail off as my hands drift lower, wrapping around his cock. I didn’t get to touch him here last night. His cock was either in me or he had his mouth on me.
I wrap my hand around him, still surprised he fit inside me. His whole body goes still and his breathing picks up. The hands that were once washing me have stopped now and are gripping my hips tight.
“Treasure,” he breathes out. “We can’t; you’re sore,” he says, as if he wants to stop, but I can tell from the pain in his voice and the soft but firm grip he has on me that he doesn't want to. His cock jerks in my hand, begging me to continue.
“You don’t have to put it in me.” I didn’t mean for the words to sound dirty. With his hard cock in my hand, I feel sexy, wanton and oddly powerful as I stand in front of the biggest and likely the strongest man I’ve ever met in my life. He makes me feel that way.
“Fuck,” he grunts. His hips press forward, jacking himself off some with the motion. His cock slides through my hand.
“I can lick you like you licked me.”
“I don’t know, maybe…” He trails off as I fall to my knees in front of him. He stares down at me, wide eyed for a moment. I swear he almost doesn't think I’m real. It isn't until I start to stroke him that he comes back to reality. I can see the lust in his eyes as he stares down at me with my mouth only inches from his cock. I quickly stick my tongue out and lick the tip of his cock as I stare up at his face.
He reaches down and strokes my cheek with his thumb for a moment. “Open up,” he commands as his thumb slides down my jaw to my chin.
I open wide, doing as he commands, hoping I can give him the same pleasure as he gave me. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I do know I don’t have to be perfect. My Tank will be happy with anything I give him because he only wants me.
CHAPTER 13
TANK
I’m moving blowjobs up on my list of favorite sex things. It’s definitely in the top three, although I don’t know what position I’m moving down the ladder. Maybe doggy-style? Because the tongue action that Erika just served is mind blowing. Her tongue and mouth deserve an award. Maybe a Nobel Peace Prize or something small like that.
We swing by her dorm room so she can change. I would’ve liked it if she wore my clothes, but when we tried that my damn shirt kept sliding off her shoulder. It was distracting. The hall monitor’s desk is empty and more than a few guys are sneaking out.
I frown. “I thought there were no men in the dorm?”
Erika appears surprised. “I thought so, too.”
I put a protective arm around her and glare at the boys leaving. “You need a new hall monitor.”
“Weren’t you upset when she wouldn’t let you in?”
“That’s different,” I grumble.
One guy stumbles toward us, his breath stinking of day-old brew and his shirt only half buttoned and his jeans halfway down his ass. I swing Erika out of the way and give the old boy a shove. “Watch where you’re going.” I glare.
“Fuck off, man,” the drunk retorts. Too bombed to realize what he’s doing, the boy comes up swinging. I slide to the left, stick out my foot and the guy slams face first on the floor. Behind the desk, a head pops up.
“What happened?” the bleary-eyed hall monitor asks.
“Some trash spilled in the entry,” Erika says. “Tank, let’s go before we get too dirty.”
She tucks her hand in mine and hauls me to the elevator bank. “Do you think we should check on him?” She looks over at the figure on the floor. The boy hasn’t moved.