Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
He reclined on his back amidst the destruction of Froot Loops and propped up on his elbows. “Now I'm exposed, too. Waiting for your acceptance.”
There was something changing inside him. She couldn't name it, but she could see it creeping to the surface in the stiffness of his muscles and the clench of his fists as he lay on the floor. It seemed to be feeding on feelings that gravitated around her. Was he aware of it? She wanted him to know she could see him, that she wanted to accept him.
“You look uncomfortable.” She cringed at the stupidity of her statement.
“Yeah, well, this position doesn't bring out the best in me. I'm not a bottom, babe.” His eyes darted away as he blew out a long ripple of air then looked back at her. “And you're not the only one susceptible to rejection.”
Who would've rejected him? She wouldn't, not anymore, but he was covered in cereal. It stuck all over his skin in multicolored crumbs. Who knew what other nooks and crannies it was finding its way into? Just looking at it made her itchy and sweaty.
The other post-Brent men she'd slept with had been so much easier to deal with. They didn't ask questions, didn't pay attention, and certainly didn't fuck her on a crumb-encrusted floor. They pounced; then they bounced. On her terms. “Can we go upstairs?”
“How about you follow your nose down here and taste the rainbow?”
Her heart pounded anxiously at the thought of rolling around in that, but the pleading expression on his face splintered her anxiety painfully down the middle.
She knelt beside him, shuddering as cereal adhered to her legs. Picking off four pieces, she searched for the box to discard them. It would only take a sec—
“Amber.” His demanding tone made her drop the crumbs. His long, skillful fingers drummed on the tiles in such a seductive way she might've leaned down and sucked one into her mouth if not for her repulsion at the crumby floor.
The spilled cereal beckoned her, her mind grouping the O's in fours. She'd scoop them up in those groups then clear the crumbs away from the grout lines. “You ask for a lot. Lights and dirt.”
“I'm not asking. We are going to have lit-up, dirty sex because you are not allowed to look at the mess.”
Her gaze flicked to his. “I...I don't kn—”
“You are going to straddle my cock because you need to come. And you deserve that release because you won't be looking at the mess ever again.” His glare was as fierce and unwavering as his tone. “Not once. Understand?”
No one had ever talked to her like that, and it gnawed away a chunk of her anxiety. “Okay.”
“I'll be right here the whole time.” He lowered his back to the tiles and opened his arms, his eyes potent and knowing. He saw her yet didn't utter a single hateful word.
Her heart raced as if being chased, hunted. He could catch it, take it, right now, and she wouldn't stop him.
She straddled one of his thighs, a compromise, and nestled into his waiting arms. His relief was palpable in the sighing embrace he gave her. She breathed it in, wanting him, and suddenly determined to give him something she hadn't given a man in two years.
Wriggling out of his arms and down his leg, she didn't look at the crumbs grinding into her knees because he'd commanded her not to. He’d given her the liberty to ignore it. And though his arms were no longer around her, she felt him holding her as she obeyed his order.
A thrill of pride ran through her, as if she'd never ignored untidiness before. She probably hadn't.
She bent over his hard length and wrapped her fingers around it. Satiny skin over rigid steel heated her palm. He was big, not overly so, but he looked massive in her tiny hand. He felt empowering in her grip.
She ducked her head and took his cock into her mouth. His choked breath spurred her to draw him deeper, her fingers pumping the root in sync with her sucking. Pools of heat collected between her legs, simmering to a needy throb. She started to close her thighs to dull the ache, but he lifted his knee, rolling it against her pussy.
His hands flew to her head, digging into her scalp. His hips bucked and his hard body trembled violently beneath her, reducing his rugged timbre to throaty grunts. Seeing him so painfully aroused, so vulnerable in her mouth, was addictive. And she held the power to relieve him.
This was what control felt like. She licked and nuzzled his glans and slid his length over her lips and cheeks, smearing saliva and pre-come across her face. It was liberating.
The hands on her head clenched, and he yanked her off of him. “Condom.”