Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I’d fuck you on a boat,” he says, then runs his thumb along the top of my panties.
I arch into his touch, wriggling against his fingers, asking for more, more, more. “You would?”
“Pull you onto my lap,” he says, then lifts his other hand and cups my breast, squeezing it.
I gasp, then lean my head back, taking all his attention, relishing it.
“Make you straddle my cock,” he muses. “Then I’d cover your mouth and tell you to be quiet while I fucked you by the river, my sweet exhibitionist.”
Heat roars through me. “Show me.” It comes out like a plea.
He spins me around. “You look good bent over the counter, so lift that ass,” he orders, but he helps me along as he tugs down my wet panties. Quick as that, he’s grabbing a condom and undoing his jeans.
When he strokes my wetness, his breath hisses. “Look at you. You get so fucking wet for us. For me,” he says, teasing my clit, stroking my slickness. “Your pussy is fucking perfect.”
I crane my neck to watch the filthy concentration in his eyes. He slides a finger through my wetness, brings it to his mouth. A pulse beats between my thighs as he sucks off my taste.
“Fucking incredible,” he says, then he grabs my chin and kisses me roughly. When he lets go, he smacks my ass. “And I’m going to fuck you to remind you who you are before you go to this meeting.”
My heart rate spikes. “Who am I?”
He pushes down on my lower back and lines his cock up at my entrance. “You’re smart,” he says, then sinks into me.
I groan at the sharp, hot intrusion.
“You’re clever,” he says, sliding out then slamming in.
I grunt as pleasure ripples through me. He slides a hand up my tits, pressing his palm hard against my collarbone but no higher.
“You’re strong,” he says, punctuating the praise with a hard thrust. “And I fucking need you.”
Even though I’m at his mercy, I feel like I have all the power thanks to his grunts, his noises, his feral growls. His bitten off words as he takes me. He’s not just showing me who I am. He’s showing me how much he wants me, and it’s exhilarating.
I drop my head, closing my eyes, giving in to the intensity of his thrusts. He doesn’t let up his grip or his pounding, and I’m close when the bedroom door creaks open.
I jerk my gaze to our guest. Hayes is wearing boxer briefs and stubble. He drags his hand through his bedhead as he watches us. “Don’t stop on my account,” he deadpans, and my breath hitches, my pussy tightening around Stefan as Hayes shamelessly stares at us.
“Why don’t you take a picture? Lasts longer,” Stefan suggests.
A hot burst of pleasure curls inside me, and I moan.
“She likes that idea,” Hayes adds.
“Yes,” I moan.
Stefan whispers in my ear. “You want him to, sweetheart?”
“I do. No face though.”
He turns his gaze to his friend. “You heard her. She’s gonna come soon, so get to it.”
Thirty seconds later, Stefan has yanked down the neckline of my cover-up, exposing my tits. Hayes is mere feet away with his cell phone, snapping pictures of Stefan fucking me harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life.
Snap. Snap.
I’m up on my toes, my fingers curling around the edge of the counter, my hair a mess. Stefan grabs a breast tight, his other hand snaking between my thighs.
Click. Click.
“So fucking ready to come. Aren’t you?” Stefan hisses in my ear.
“Yes, please yes.”
Hayes gets closer, snaps another shot of my chest. “Your tits. Your beautiful fucking tits,” he rasps out, and then takes picture after picture as exquisite ecstasy rages in my body, storming through me as I detonate.
Stefan squeezes my breast harder with one hand as he shudders on a deep thrust. He pumps one last time, kissing my neck as he goes.
Then, biting me.
I gasp, lifting a hand to my neck, covering it, like it’s something I covet.
When he lets go, he pulls me up, eases out. “I picked that red shirt because it’ll cover your neck today,” he says, sounding devilishly pleased with himself.
“Thanks for the foresight.”
“Now, I need you to do something for me, sweetheart,” he says.
I give him a curious stare. “Okay.”
He disposes of the condom, then zips up his jeans, tipping his forehead to the man with the camera. “Crawl to him.”
“You want me to…” Did I hear him right? And why is my spine tingling? My breath catching all over again?
Hayes sets down the phone on the counter. His eyes gleam, as if he’s saying, Well, what’s it gonna be?
That’s a very good question. The last time I crawled was on the ice, in a purple furball costume, when I was being chased by a tiger. But I’ve never crawled for a man.