Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
He kisses me, burying my mouth with his, and I feel his weight between my legs. He’s hard, rock hard, straining against his dress slacks. I grind against him, not giving a damn if I ruin his stupid suit with my excitement.
He doesn’t seem to mind either.
“Fuck,” he whispers, forehead against mine. “You fucking kill me, Casey. You wanted to throw me off the roof ten minutes ago. Now you’re rubbing yourself against my cock.”
“Are you complaining right now?” I struggle slightly. “Let me go if you don’t want this.”
“I want this.” I bite my lower lip. “And I want you to say it too.”
“I want this.” Why pretend otherwise? “But you’re going to work for it.”
He laughs as I kick away from him and scramble to the head of the bed. He takes off his shirt, doing it slowly, making me watch. I lean against the padded headboard, legs spread again, hand teasing myself. What is wrong with me? Where did I get this sort of sexual confidence?
He finishes undressing down to his boxer briefs then crawls to me. There’s something about a big man like him stalking toward me like a hungry jungle cat. His mouth buries between my legs, shoving my hand aside, and he begins to lick me like he can’t stop himself, growling the whole time.
I reach up, grabbing the top of the headboard as he eats me, devours me, ruins me.
“Fuck, you realize you’re not going to get me pregnant like that?” I groan, hips rocking back and forth, dancing right on the edge of coming.
“You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you?” His fingers slide deep inside me. “You want me to fuck you right now?”
I whimper, too afraid to answer.
He moves up to kiss me. “Say you want me to fuck you and I will.”
“What happened to making me comfortable first?”
“I think you’re comfortable enough.”
I moan as his fingers tease me again. “What if I need more time?”
“Now you’re stalling.”
“I’m not stalling, it’s just—” How am I supposed to tell him? “I’m afraid of what you’ll think.”
“Think of what? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever tasted, Casey.”
“That can’t be true. My scars—”
“Are perfect. Your scars are perfect because they are you. Why do you think I care about them?”
“Because.” I look away. “Other people do.”
“Then fuck the other people. Why are you stopping now?”
I close my eyes. I take a deep breath. “Because you should know something about me before we have sex.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve never done it before.” I look at him, trembling with fear. “I’m a virgin.”
He goes still. I wait for the embarrassment to wash over me. I’m trying not to cry, but it’s so pathetic. This man, this experienced and handsome man, he doesn’t want or need some loser girl that’s never gone past second base. Hell, any woman that thinks in bases is probably not in his league.
But he only leans forward and kisses me.
It’s a surprise. I expected him to say something. Instead, the kiss is deep, passionate. He pulls me against him, drinking me in, and I feel myself softening toward him. The burn between my legs is still there, that perfect glow, the pulse for him. Slowly, he pulls back.
“Why would a woman that looks like you be a virgin?”
I try not to laugh. “Most men don’t want a cripple.”
“You’re not crippled.”
“I was for a while. I had to work on walking the way I do now, and by the time I started feeling like myself again… everyone had moved on. It was too late.”
“It’s not too late.” He kisses me again. “This is why you’ve been so nervous.”
“This isn’t the only reason.”
“Ah, you’re simply intimidated by my charm and good looks.”
“I wouldn’t go that far either.”
“Casey.” His thumb parts my lips. “You are beautiful and I want to teach you everything.”
I blink at him. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Even though I’m an inexperienced virgin?”
“Especially because of that. You think I care?”
I glance away. “I figured—”
“I don’t.” He kisses me. Fingers unbutton my blouse. He removes my bra, licks my nipples. “I don’t at all.” His mouth drops down again, drags me onto my back, licks my inner thigh before licking my clit. I groan, eyes squeezed shut, trying to make sense of this turn.
But there’s no thinking. Not right now. Not when he takes off his boxer briefs and I’m stroking his big cock, shocked at how hard he is, how he’s pulsing just like I am, like he’s as excited for this as I feel. I’m dripping wet, soaking through, but all I feel is a deep satisfaction that yes, finally, I’m going to sleep with a man—and not just any man, but my husband.
He holds me down, my legs spread, his tip against my entrance. “Relax,” he whispers as he goes slowly. “Just relax.”