Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“I don’t know where to put my hands,” I admit to her back, eyes drifting south, down the curve of her spine to the round globes of her butt.
As if warring with herself, she stands, presenting me with her rear end for another few seconds, deliberating. Waiting. Breathes in and out, short intakes of air, unsteady. Her skin? Covered in goose bumps.
I grip her left hand, tugging so she’ll face me.
And time fucking stops when she makes the full rotation, tits at eye level, and I can’t decide where to look first.
So I look everywhere, starting with her…
Nipples.
Goddamn they’re perfect.
Flat stomach and a belly button I want to press with my finger.
Nipples.
Scarlett’s underwear is sheer; I can see clear through them to the neatly trimmed dark patch between her legs, the area I had in my mouth last night.
That same mouth waters.
“I think you should take your pants off so I’m not the only one standing here naked.”
I rise, unbuttoning my khakis, shoving them down my hips and kicking them out of my way with one quick motion.
Fucking pants—who needs them?
Falling to my knees in front of Scarlett, I let my forehead touch her stomach as my trembling hands skim up her calves.
Knees.
Thighs.
Tentatively, her fingers stroke the top of my head, twisting a few strands of my hair. Gently tugging before her hands drop to my shoulders, lightly stroking the sun-kissed skin there.
I pull back a few inches so I can kiss her abs. Kiss the warm valley between her breasts, inhale the perfume she must have sprayed on while she was in the bathroom.
My fingers toy with the waistband of her underwear, forefingers creeping inside, giving them a diminutive pull. We both know they’re coming off; why prolong the inevitable?
I tug again, working the flimsy material down over her slender hips. She spreads her legs a tiny bit to make the job easier, and my mouth waters when the panties are past her pussy.
Her tidy, well-trimmed pussy.
I help her step completely out of them then give that apex between her legs my total focus, spread it with my thumbs. Incline toward it, sending out a puff of breath to warm it. Lick up the middle.
Her fingers tighten on my shoulders. Squeeze.
A warning.
“Th-This isn’t a good idea. I’m not steady enough to stand here w-while you do that without falling.” She’s stuttering—a good sign.
An excellent sign.
I rise slowly, dragging myself along her naked body, licking her tits as my hands slide up her backside, gripping her ass cheeks.
Scarlett gasps when I haul her up, rotate and lower her to the bed. Stand back and get rid of the boxer briefs clinging to my thick thighs.
Arms above her head, she’s spread out like an angel, dark hair fanned out on the white bedspread, skin a light golden brown from her time in the sun.
Cheeks? Pink.
Lips? Pouty and parted.
Dimple? One hundred fucking percent lickable.
Her eyes are expectant and wide when I crawl over her body, sucking on her nipple along the way and wetting it with my ravenous tongue.
Scarlett’s throat constricts in an uneasy swallow when she glances between our bodies, at my hard dick swaying in the breeze. “Just so you know, I harbor no illusions about this going well.”
I pause, listening. Watching her chest move up and down. “What do you mean?”
“I know it’s going to hurt, Sterling, and only one of us is going to enjoy it.”
My stomach drops and I actually move my fucking hand there. “Why would you say that?”
“None of my friends liked sex their first time.”
“None?”
Her head gives a bashful shake.
Well shit. This will not do.
Not on my watch.
“Not only are you going to like it, you’re going to orgasm.”
Scarlett laughs, shoulders shaking at the confident tone of my voice, her hands sliding along my arms to cup my face, pulling me down so she can smack a kiss to my lips.
“You’re adorably full of yourself.”
Maybe, but since when is that a bad thing? “It’s called confidence.”
“You’re confident you can make me orgasm the first time I have sex? You’re not a magician. It’s going to hurt.”
“Magic has nothing to do with it—this does.” I lower my pelvis, letting my cock drag across the slit of her pussy while my tongue plays along her lips until her mouth opens. “I’ve been hard for you for weeks.”
“You have?”
“You couldn’t tell? I feel like I’ve been walking around with a fucking boner in my pants since I hauled you onto that porch.”
“You didn’t haul me onto that porch—I followed you.”
“Probably so you could check out my ass.”
She reaches around, hands skimming the sensitive skin of my ribcage. Slides them down to my buttocks, squeezing. “And what a lovely ass it is.”
Firm? Yes.
Lovely? No.
Moaning when my painfully stiff dick slides back and forth over her pussy, she sucks on my tongue. Comes up for air when I nudge the tip between the folds. “Don’t get too carried away with that thing. It’s dangerous.”