Texting My Dad’s Best Friend Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
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I gasp as he sweeps me into his arms. He does it so quickly, so efficiently.

As he carries me through the apartment, I wrap my arms around him and lay my head against his chest.

There’s plenty I should be thinking about, not least of which being….

Just what the heck am I going to do if this goes all the way?

But my core won’t let me think about it, pulsing needily, telling me we’ve waited long enough.

As Damien nudges his bedroom door open – revealing a plain clean room, the bed sheets tucked in – I swallow a big lump of nervousness.

We said we’d wait.

But I can feel his heat, hear his urgent breath, sense his unending desire.

“I need you so badly,” he snarls, placing me down and kissing me again.

I return his kiss, my tongue seeking his out as though it has a mind of its own. Wrapping my arms around him, we kiss as we do a weird sort of dance across the room.

The bed bumps into the back of my legs, the physical presence of it seeming to reinforce how real this is.

It’s happening. Right now.

Tell him to stop, a voice screams as he softly nudges me back, the same way he’s described during texting.

And when I stand over you, I remember from one of his messages and stare down at that perfect curvy body, I won’t be able to stop. You’re too sexy, Danielle. You’re too hot. You’re going to belong to me. Just me.

And maybe that’s why I don’t tell him to stop.

Damien only ever says nerve-tingling possessive stuff like that when we’re being intimate.

I need that feeling, need to know he wants to own me, if only for a little while.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning down and grabbing my pants button. “I need to see your pink pussy. I need to taste you. Are you going to come for me, Danielle?”

I shift from side to side as he pulls my pants down.

My panties are tangled up, hooked by his thumbs, and he pulls them down at the same time. My thighs shiver, my knees tingle, and then he’s pulling them over my calves.

I almost leap up, possibly run away. He’s going to see me naked.

Or half-naked, with no underwear to cover me like when we text.

“Fuck,” he snarls, tossing the bundle to the floor and staring down at my sex.

I close my legs, anxiety touching me, but then he steps forward and touches my knees, spreading them apart again.

“Don’t you even think about hiding that perfect pussy from me.”

I bite my lip, staring up at him, hardly about to handle his attention.

My heart feels like it’s thumping against my spine, hammering against the mattress. My lips shiver, and my clit gives an urgent pulse as though hungry for his attention.

I’ll never not be hungry for my man.

“I know we should stop,” he growls, lowering himself to his knees at the edge of the bed. “But I can’t. Not now.”

He reaches forward, grabbing onto my thighs, making my body tingle in anticipation.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Damien

I press my hands indulgently into the flawlessly thick flesh of her thighs.

She moans in a way that has my shaft getting even harder, seed surging up and down it, but it’s my mouth that’s hungriest of all.

I look at her sweet pussy, pink and glistening with wetness, her clit looking needy and ready for my touch.

Her lips are as full as her body, as though expanding in their lust.

Smoothing my hands further up her thighs, I stop near her sex, knowing there’s no going back. I’m salivating. Thinking about anything beyond this moment, my woman, her body, and her beauty is impossible.

“You’re soaked,” I snarl as I circle my finger around her entrance, spreading her wetness.

She whimpers and wriggles on the sheets, like she’s not sure how to respond to this feeling…or like she’s excited, annoyed at me for teasing her.

I move my finger closer to her entrance, feeling how hot she is, boiling up from the inside.

I snarl when her moans seem insistent like she can’t take the teasing anymore.

“Baby,” I say.

“W-what?” she moans.

“If you want me to taste your perfect, creamy pussy, tell me, Danielle. Fucking beg me.”

I press my fingers even more indulgently, possessively, letting her feel who she belongs to and how badly I need her.

“Please,” she whispers. “I want it, D-Damien. Badly.”

With my other hand, I move my finger to her clit and start massaging it.

She gasps, and her movements turn more purposeful like she’s instinctively following the pleasure.

I rub her clit from side to side, leaning across the bed and kissing her inner thigh simultaneously.

I can taste her sweat and gorgeous tanginess, but I know it will be nothing compared to her slick pussy.

As I keep rubbing her clit – her moans rise, her voice catches – I finally kiss my way to her opening. I can’t tease her anymore, and really I wonder if I’m just teasing myself.


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