Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“But you’ve thought about it,” he says.
“How do you know that?”
“Reading those books, letting your imagination run wild, you must have thought about it. Should I be jealous of your bookish boyfriends?”
“They never had faces.”
“I thought these were romance books, not horror.”
“Ha ha. I mean, they’ve never had clear features. They were always just big, muscular men… but I never knew who they were, or could be. They seemed so far away from… Hey, I love this song.”
He grins. “You’re so cute.”
The pop artist is singing about a man she left in North Dakota, wondering if he’s ever going to find her again, wondering if they’ll ever reconnect. It had little connection to my life before I met Luke.
“Who is it?”
“Delilah Sky,” I tell him. “She was a child star when I was her age, but she’s moved onto more mature stuff.” I bob my head along to the music. “Do you seriously think any of these would suit me?”
He stops in front of a full set of lingerie complete with stockings. The fabric is pale green.
“It matches your eyes,” he says, trailing his hand over my back… then down to my ass. I check my surroundings, but no one is paying attention to us. “Why don’t you try it on?”
“Do you think they let you try on lingerie?”
“I’ll buy it either way… even if you don’t like it, it’ll be worth it to see you in it.”
A sense of adventure shimmers over me. I’ve gone from dreaming to living, and it’s incredibly satisfying.
“Okay…”
“Choose your size,” he says.
When I do so, he grabs the packaging and walks toward the checkout.
My entire body is ablaze. I feel drunk. My head normally only gets this light when I’m in the throes of some tech haze, ideas clattering into ideas. Now, I’m on fire for an entirely different reason.
When he returns, he’s staring at me with clear hunger in his eyes. He looks like a man possessed.
“Shall we?” he says, motioning towards the changing rooms.
“Are you going to watch?”
“I’m not sure how kindly they’d take to that… but I can wait outside, can’t I? Innocently, not going insane as I think about you in the changing room, your body naked.”
We walk toward the changing rooms together. My heart is thumping so hard. Book quotes vie for attention in my brain as I struggle to stay sane, and not completely lose it. In the changing room, I’m achingly aware of him just past the curtain, my breath quickening at the thought of all the possibilities.
Stripping off my clothes, I put on the lingerie, looking at myself in the mirror. Something magical happens when I’ve put it all on. It’s like I’m able to see myself, how he sees me, sexy and hot. I stand up straighter, my back arched, emphasizing my breasts, the dip in my waist and the flare of my hips.
A moment later, he slips into the changing room, looming over me, his gaze fixed on the mirror. I don’t turn, instead, meeting his eye in the reflection.
“You’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be,” he groans. “Fuck… Look at you, Sparkplug. That bra pushes your cleavage together perfectly. Those stockings – oh, fuck, how they sink into your curviness, highlighting how thick your thighs are.”
“I don’t think you should be in here,” I whisper.
He smirks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. He presses his body against mine. Every inch of his muscular build is throbbing as if he’s barely holding back his desire.
He sinks his hands into my breasts, groaning as he leans down and begins kissing my neck. Petals of pleasure shimmer over me, dancing over my skin, shivering through my body. He angles his hips so that his rock-hard length is pushing against my ass.
I moan as I move, grinding against him, massaging his steel with my ass. His moans talk of his obvious enjoyment. He slips one hand down my body toward my sex, then pushes down through the fabric. Outside the changing room, I can hear footsteps, someone walking past our small pocket of pleasure. I bite down to stop from moaning, but that just makes him wilder.
He stares at me in the mirror, slipping his hand into my underwear and pushing firmly against my neediness, grinding his hand with frantic urgency. He heats me up, boiling my pleasure point, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I close my legs around his hand, keeping him there, trapping him close to me.
“I need to feel you come,” he growls in my ear. “I need to feel your pussy get soaked. I need to feel your core flutter for me, pulsing as your body talks to me, like a text telling me how badly you need this. Need us.”
I reach up, touch his face, clawing onto his firm jawline as I attempt to remain quiet. He moves even faster, his bare hand against my clit, passionate fire flooding me as I rock my hips in time with him.