Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Somehow he seemed to know I was at the breaking point, and the next time I got close, he let me finish. “Don’t close your eyes,” he warned. “Watch.”
I did as he asked, keeping my eyes on our reflection, watching his hand move between my thighs, my cries bouncing off the walls, my leg muscles growing hot and tight, my bones threatening to buckle as the climax shook me.
Finally, I went limp in his arms. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice low in my ear. “You’re fucking perfect.” He kissed my throat, my shoulder, and the back of my neck, before easing my upper body forward so my chest and cheek rested on the cool wooden tabletop. “Yes,” he said, running his hand down my spine. “I want you just like this.”
He picked up his glass.
The next thing I felt was cool liquid being dripped onto my back, all along my spine from the base of my neck to my tailbone. The smoky sweet scent filled my head as he leaned over and licked the whiskey off my skin. I shivered, and he laughed. Then he popped open the clasp on my bra and poured more whiskey across my shoulder blades. This time, instead of licking it up, he put his hand in it and rubbed the liquid all over my skin.
“Such bad things,” he said, his voice somewhere between a growl and a whisper.
He pulled the black lace thong down my legs and picked up his glass. A moment later, what I assumed was some very expensive whiskey was drizzled over my ass, running down my thighs, and seeping into places that I’d never imagined pricey booze might seep.
“Fuck yes.” Hutton dropped to his knees behind me, his palms on my ass as he licked his way up the backs of my legs, sliding his tongue between my thighs, stroking me from behind. He slipped one hand into the tight, wet space between my legs, rubbing my sensitive clit with the side of his forefinger.
I moaned as he teased and sucked and licked and fucked me with his fingers. No sooner had the throes of the previous orgasm faded than he had me spiraling upward again. My body demanded more. Finally I gave up and begged.
“Hutton,” I pleaded. “I want to feel you inside me.”
“I want that too, princess.” He pushed his fingers deeper inside me. “I want my cock right here. I want to make you come again. But this is a game about patience. About control. We can’t just give in to every urge we feel.”
“Romeo,” I panted. “Now can we give in?”
He laughed. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s a safe word, not a password.”
“But I want you so badly.” My body was burning up for him. I felt like heat and desire were emanating from my skin. “I’ve never wanted anyone this way. I have no control.”
“You don’t have to have control.” He took his fingers from me, kissed the back of each leg, and rose to his feet. “You have to surrender it. That’s what I like.”
I moaned, squirming on the dining room table as he took another sip of his whiskey. “Surrender is harder than I thought.”
“I know it is.” He set the glass down. “But you’re doing so well, princess. You’re such a good girl, and I’m going to give you what you want.”
“You are?” I grew excited as I heard the zipper of his dress pants being lowered. I couldn’t see, but I imagined him pulling out his cock, stroking it with his fist like he had in the bathtub.
“Yes,” he said. “But you have to tell me what that is.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I said without hesitation.
He laughed again. “What happened to my sweet princess? Where are her manners?”
“I want you to fuck me, please?” I tried.
“That’s better.” He rubbed the tip of his cock between my thighs, damp with whiskey and desire. Both of us moaned as he pushed inside me, every hot, thick inch stretching and filling me until his hips met my ass. Placing his hands on my hips, he pulled back and did it again, and again, and again. “Fuck,” he growled. “It’s so tight. So hot. And you look so fucking good.”
It was tight—having my ankles bound together with his belt kept my legs pressed firmly together. And the way I was bent forward over the table meant he could go in deep. As he moved faster, he moved rougher, and I began to exhale sharply every time he hit the furthest spot.
Suddenly he yanked me back from the table, but only enough to reach one hand around and rub my clit with his fingertips, keeping his cock buried deep just like I wanted. “Come for me,” he demanded. “Come right now, on my cock. On my fingers. Let me feel it. Then I’ll come for you.”