Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
I wasn’t gentle as I jerked my cock up and down. I tugged on it forcefully, achingly. I wanted the torment as I imagined what it would feel like if this was her pussy instead of my hand. God, even if it was just her wet mouth around me.
She’d mentioned sucking cock. I could fill her right up, grab her hair, thrust into her mouth like I owned it. I could own her. Every inch of her. Every hole. It was a torment to even think about how she’d react to taking my cock in her mouth.
I slammed a hand against the shower wall, feeling the first prick of orgasm up my spine. I was close. Of course I was fucking close. I’d never come in my pants, just from fingering her.
But if it were her pussy. Dear fucking God. She’d been so fucking tight. So fucking wet. I could spread her lips and sink inch after inch into her, take what I wanted so badly.
I came in long spurts to the image of her coming on my fingers. I coated the glossy white shower wall with my come until I was fully spent. Then, I bent forward at the waist, breathing harshly.
“Fuck,” I groaned again.
I was fucked.
After a few minutes of recovery, I cleaned up my mess, turned off the shower, and threw a towel low around my hips. I didn’t even bother drying off. I needed to get back to the safety of my room so that I could escape the image of her. I didn’t trust myself to not demand more from her.
I cracked the bathroom door open at the same moment her bedroom door opened. She made a small squeak as her eyes widened, dragging down my mostly naked and soaking wet body. Her nostrils flared, and her grip tightened on the doorknob.
“I was…just getting some water,” she said.
She’d also taken a shower. Her makeup was gone, and her long blonde bob had darkened to brown and dragged past her collarbone from the water. She’d changed into a blue tank top and sleeping pants. A rivulet of water ran down between her chest, pooling between her breasts. I watched the water, jealous of its trajectory.
“Did you need anything?” she asked me.
I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t tell her what I needed from her. Because what I wanted, she wasn’t ready to give. And I shouldn’t have even taken what I had.
“I’m good,” I lied.
She nodded. “Okay then.” She took a few steps down the hall. A few steps closer to me.
I still hadn’t moved. I didn’t trust myself to move.
Then, she smiled a small, shy thing at me. “Good night, West. Sweet dreams.”
Oh, I was going to have dreams. But they weren’t going to be anything but sweet torture.
“Night, Snickers.”
She disappeared into the kitchen, and I hurried back to my room, closing the door for the night on all of my temptations, just a few feet away.
Part III
Fine Line
13
Nora
Weston fucking Wright had fingerbanged me in the living room in the name of science.
Nothing made sense anymore.
It was a few days later, and still, it was all I could think about. Not Annie and Jordan’s wedding, which was only two weeks away. Or the Locke-King wedding that I was planning for next month. Not anything at all while I was in my office at Wright Vineyard, trying against all hope to be productive.
Except all I could think about was the sensation of his fucking fingers on my clit. The way he’d made me come harder than I ever had with my own fingers. And he hadn’t even taken my panties off.
All those years of assuming I couldn’t come, of being expressly told that I probably couldn’t, and he’d done it in a matter of minutes. My brain was in a fog from it.
I’d faked getting my glass of water so that I could see him again. And then I was the one salivating over the fact that he was in nothing but a towel around his hips. Shirtless and dripping wet, and suddenly, I was the one who was wet again. While he seemed completely unaffected by what had happened one room over.
I got my water and lay in bed, wondering what the fuck had just happened. And what I was supposed to do with the knowledge that my roommate could finger-fuck an orgasm out of me like it was his job. What would it be like with his cock? Which was only two rooms away.
It had been nearly impossible to sleep.
Then, the next morning, he’d acted as if nothing had changed. I’d had to play along despite getting way less sleep than necessary and having to book it to Starbucks to survive the rest of the day.
This was the point where I wished I had my best friend to work out what to do from here. But of course, Tamara was the problem, not the solution.