Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
I jerk against him. “T-then what is it?”
“It’s my fucking religion.” I squirm again as he keeps going, “Thinking about cutting all your clothes off is how I pray now. Thinking about tearing your pretty pink dresses is how I breathe. It’s how I fucking exist. And you’re going to wear pink for me, Bubblegum. You better believe it.”
“Because pink is your favorite color.”
“Yeah.” Then his eyes go hard. “And because I fucking hate blue.”
He tugs at my dress to emphasize his point, because I’m wearing blue.
And because he knows why.
And then and there, I promise to never wear blue again. To always wear my favorite color for him. Because that’s why it’s his favorite too.
“I won’t.”
“Fuck yeah, you won’t,” he rasps, rubbing our lips together. “You’ll wear pink and even though I fucking love you in pink, I’ll still take a knife to it. I’ll still cut it off so I can get to the real prize. My real favorite color. The color of your soft-as-fuck moondust skin.”
My skin breaks out in goosebumps then.
At this possessive tone. His growly tone.
“And then what?” I ask.
He breathes out sharply. “And then, I’ll spread your legs and feed you my cock. I’ll feed it to your pussy and keep going until I’m right where I wanna be. Right at the spot that I dream about.”
“What spot?”
“Your womb.”
“My w-womb.”
“Yeah, baby.” He kisses me softly, wetly. “I’ll wedge my dick right up in your womb and then I’ll fuck it. I’ll fuck your womb and that might hurt, okay?”
My belly clenches. “It might?”
“Yeah. If I fuck you so deep and so hard, it might hurt your tummy. It might make you cry.”
“I won’t though,” I tell him bravely. “I won’t cry.”
He kisses me again. “You will. But it’s okay. Because like last night, I’ll lick it all up. I’ll make it all better for my Bubblegum.”
“I know you will,” I whisper, kissing him back.
“Good,” he praises. “So then, I’ll fuck your womb. I’ll fuck it and fuck it, all the while thinking and thinking about your belly swelling up.”
I pant now, unable to drag in enough air.
As he spins his erotic tale. As he tells me his favorite dream.
Licking his lips, he continues, “I’ll fuck it while thinking about your womb growing and expanding. Becoming bigger and bigger. But then that’s not the only part of you that’ll be bigger.”
“What else?”
He presses a hard kiss. “Your tits will grow too.”
My tits tingle at his words. “Oh yeah.”
And his eyes go back to my naked breasts. “They’ll become big and heavy. Creamy.” He palms them again, both at the same time. “Milky.”
Speechless, I arch into him, offering him more.
“Jesus Christ, the day you start to drip from here,” he worries my nipples, “I’ll be done. It’ll be game over for me.”
“I’m…”
He worries and worries my nipples, watching them with fevered, manic eyes. “I’ll fucking worship at the altar of them. I will. I will latch onto them, I swear to God, and never ever let go. I’ll drink from them from sunup to sundown.”
I gasp, all shy and hot.
Very strangely horny. Even so, the good girl in me protests. “But R-Reign, that’s… No.”
“You serious, right now?” he asks, disbelieving, still watching my tits, still playing with them but with a frown now. “You’re seriously going to keep me from your milky tits.”
“I… I’m…”
“Because I’ll die,” he growls, plumping up my flesh.
“Y-you’re just being dramatic.”
At this, he does look up. “Fuck no. Wanting to drink from my girl’s tits who’s going to have my fucking baby is not drama. It’s just how things are. It’s just how I’m going to show her that I’m grateful. I’m so fucking grateful, Bubblegum, to you. For making me the happiest that I’ve ever been in my life.”
And then, I break down and say, “Okay. Okay.”
Because how can I not?
How can I take this away from him?
I’m not cruel. I’m not that kind of a good girl.
What I am is his good girl.
So he can drink from my tits if he wants to.
“Yeah?” he asks in a rough, barely-there voice. “You’ll let me suckle your tits then?”
“Oh God, yes. Yes.”
“Even when they get all sore and hurt-y.”
“Y-yeah. Because you’ll make them better.”
“Fuck yeah, I will.” He rewards me again with a kiss. “I’ll make it all better for you, I promise. And you know I don’t break promises to you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“So yeah, if you let me feed from your pregnant tits, I’ll cover you in diamonds and drape you in velvet. I’ll fuck your pussy over and over, and feed you my cum.”
I’m so tightly wound up in the web of his dreams that I don’t know up from down. But then that’s what he did last night too. Wrapped me around his filthy tales and made me feel so horny and hot and safe.