Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Here, it’s just me and him.
Road pulls my T-shirt off, but then his hands and lips are right back on me, pushing me down, until I’m flat on the bed, and he’s mapping my torso, as if he worries he’s missed something all those other times we had sex.
I love his lips on me. The few times I decided to sleep with girls, it was never like this. They were all with me because I was a member of a biker club, a man’s man, who would play the role assigned to him perfectly. But with Road, I can let go, just be myself for a while, and let him take over.
I hear the distant hum of cars. But other than that it’s so quiet I’m aware of each gasp my lover makes as he explores my chest, playing with the hair in the middle and pulling on my nipples until I’m choking on air, increasingly sensitive to his touch.
Even the dusty scent in the room is covered by Road’s new cologne, as if I’m drowning in him. This is why I want him to fuck me. Not just because I have a vague idea that I want a man on top of me and his dick inside me. I crave the connection, the care, this moment of intimacy stolen from the clock ticking against us.
I moan in encouragement when he opens my jeans, then slides his hands in at the back to cup my ass. A shiver runs up my spine and I’m buzzing.
The pressure is almost impossible to take, but once my cock’s finally free, the cool air makes my head spin. It remains so for only a moment, then I sense a breath of heat, and soft, wet walls close around my shaft, sucking me in.
My eyes fly open. I don’t even know when I closed them, but I gasp as I look straight down at Road, his mouth full of my cock. He’s so hot like this. Even now, in control, lazily sucking me as he pulls my boots off.
“Oh fuck…” I whisper, my mind blank and filled with the excitement of being with him. No other pleasure can compete.
He continues giving me head while he gets rid of my jeans and underwear, leaving me breathless. I spread my legs a little wider when I’m naked, and he meets my gaze, staring back while my cock’s wet with his saliva. He keeps touching me, squeezing my ass, my thighs, touching my balls. Tension is already building inside me, and I arch my back, trying to keep myself from thrusting, but his lips are gone the moment I do it.
“Better than the cupcake?” I gasp when he pushes me farther on the bed with ease. He’s so damn strong.
Even though my heart jumps into my throat when he flips me to my stomach, I let him. I’m no coward. I even spread my thighs for him, because I’ve wanted this for too long, and won’t back out because of stage fright.
The growl he releases, looming behind me, reminds me of a hungry beast that has just left its lair after months of hibernation. He’s hungry, and with so much of my flesh on show, he’s soon nipping on my thighs and squeezing my ass before kissing all over the side of my buttock.
“You’re so juicy,” he rasps, shivering as if he can’t contain his excitement for me.
I rise to my elbows to look back at him with more ease. It’s such a turn on to see him so horny. We’re both naked, free, we have the whole night in this warm room far away from home. I grind my dick against the covers. Just a little bit, for my own pleasure, but I guess the movement of my ass in the meanwhile is fascinating to Road, because his eyes are like two shiny quarters.
“Fuzzy peach,” I laugh to hide my tension.
With a soft grunt, he digs his teeth into my flesh, not hard enough to break skin, but the sting of it makes me rock back and forth, which provokes him into doing it again.
“Sweet too,” he confesses, sending his palms up my back, kneading my flesh while I’m stuck imagining him mounting me now, while my ass still aches from the pain-pleasure of the bites.
I can be a bit vain, but no one’s ever made me feel so admired, as if my body is a work of art to be revered. And then Road also ruins me. Marks me. Bites me. Scratches me. Picks me up and toys with me. He’s the artist, so he gets to do what he wants with me.
And I want more. More. More.
“More,” I utter, and he doesn’t deny me.
His knees shove my thighs apart with such ease, my insides twitch with the need for… something. There’s an itch I can’t scratch by myself, a throbbing desire deep inside, and when he climbs my body and rests his weight on me, I clutch at the bedding, worried that I might come if my cock rubs against the fabric a bit too much.