Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
“What else?” she asks in the tiniest of whispers.
“You know all the snow outside? You know what it needs?”
She smiles, her eyes a question, “A snow plow?”
“Yep, but you know what I am gonna plow? You.”
“Me?” her words a faint but I can tell she I squiriming with desire.
“Yes, you. I'm going to make you moan and I'm going to make you come in a way you never have before, because maybe you've used your fingers in the past, Quinn, and maybe you've used a battery-operated boy toy. And that's great. In fact, that's fucking fine. The truth is, I'm glad you've been having fun, teaching yourself what it means to please and pleasure. But baby," I tell her, pressing my hand between her thighs, cupping her pussy the way it needs, the way it deserves.
She's wet. Her panties, fuck, they've been ruined hours ago. I can tell she's creamed them over and over again, probably since the first time she heard my voice on the phone. "I'm ruining you for all romance novels, and more than that. Tonight, I plan on ruining you for all other men."
8
QUINN
Nicholas begins to take control of me in a way I've always dreamt about, at least read about. He pulls me to the ground, spreading my legs.
His head moves between my legs, his mouth finds my pussy, his tongue licks me up and down. He flicks expertly.
"You like that, baby?" he asks, growling against me, and I purr like a kitten. He knows that I like it, need it, want it.
My back arches as he teases me. My thong has been discarded. My nipples are hard. My body his. He says he's going to make me a sundae, but I've already melted. I'm a mess. I am his, of that I am certain.
"Oh my God," I mutter, moaning in pleasure as he deep dives to my pussy in a way I didn't know was necessarily possible. I couldn't make this happen with my fingers, try as I might. A dildo had its purposes, but it could never give me this amount of pleasure. His tongue grinds against my clit, tempting me to a place I've only dreamt about.
"Yes," I moan as he takes me to the edge, circling back again, up and down with such ease, such tantalizing speed. I ache for more and he knows how to deliver.
"You like that, girl?" he asks, and he knows I do. He’s a man that I have basically just met, but I would give myself to him over and over again. How have I waited this long for him to enter my life?
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" he asks as he adds a finger to my pussy, opening me up nice and slow.
"Yes," I beg. "Yes," I moan.
"You do, don't you?"
"Yes," I say, not even realizing what I'm answering, what I'm committing to. "Yes," I finish, the orgasm presenting itself in such an absolute and complete way I feel as if I've just run a marathon, as if I've just finished a term paper, as if I've just... Well, as if I've just gotten off for the first real time in my life.
"I knew you would. I knew you did. This is real, right?" he asks.
I blink, realizing what I was saying yes to. It was more than just that flood of euphoria. His words, "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
I look into his eyes.
"You don't even know me," I say. "Nicholas."
"I feel like I know plenty. I know you taste like whipped cream, you look like sugar, you sound like dessert."
"And I know your family is crazy," I tell him, running my hands through his hair. "I know you're lonely. I know you're looking for a small-town girl to get cozy with. But Nicholas, I think you might like the idea of me more than the reality," I say as he runs his tongue up and down my body, sucking my breasts as if they are his. I'll give them over gladly if he doesn't stop doing that sometime soon.
I reach down, touching his cock. I've never been naked like this with a man before, but I don't feel vulnerable in a way that makes me scared. I feel open and honest and seen in a way that makes me excited for what might be coming next.
"All I know, Quinn, is that when I saw you walk up to this cabin, I felt like I saw an angel, and I'm not saying that in some Biblical sense. I'm saying you were a gift from God. The girl I needed, the girl I wanted, you're it. I know I don't have any idea what your favorite color is, your favorite thing to eat for breakfast or how you take your coffee. But what if none of that mattered? What if all that mattered was a blizzard in the dead of winter? What if all that mattered was you and me finding one another in the middle of a snowstorm? What if that was enough to start a life?"