Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
She drops the towel, but my eyes are still locked on the tips of her peaked breasts, my body controlling my response as I thicken right before her eyes.
“I don’t want you cuddling my face and looking at me like you’re afraid you’ll break me. I don’t want sympathy or fucking pity from you.”
“I’ll give you one quick minute to change your tone,” I say, my voice calm even though I don’t know if taking this tack will work since she’s so angry.
She narrows her eyes at me, but I don’t miss the way her throat works on a swallow.
“I didn’t cup your face in the shower because I think it’s what you need. I’ll touch you how I want to touch you. Your job is to please me, Lennox. Do you think snapping at me pleases me?”
She doesn’t respond, but her body relaxes some.
“I’m not afraid I’ll break you. You’re too strong to be broken. But you’ll give me what I need, and in the shower that was cupping your face. Do you understand?”
She nods quickly, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.
“You didn’t fuck me last night,” she whispers.
“Your body couldn’t have handled me last night, baby.”
“Y-You said you weren’t afraid to break me,” she argues.
I do my best to keep from smiling. Leave it to her to latch on to my contradiction.
“Is that what you need, baby? Do you need to be broken?”
She shakes her head, swallowing again. “I need to be fixed.”
“And you think I know how to fix you?”
“I know you do.”
“Bend over the bed.”
She moves without further instruction, and I resist running my fingers over the scratches on her back. I have no fucking clue how she got them, maybe trying to move away from Dixon when he was attacking her.
I take a deep breath, my heart clenching for what she’s gone through, but my cock, the ever-resilient fucker, is ready to go.
“Hands fisting the sheets,” I tell her as I reach and grab a condom from my wallet. “You’ll come with only me fucking you, or you won’t come at all.”
She whimpers but obeys, her fingers tangling in the sheet under her face.
She’s glistening, slick and ready, but I’m the one that needs a minute to calm down. It’s not that I don’t want to do this. That isn’t the case at all. I just don’t want this to be all that I am to her.
I know some of this is a trauma response, but I also know that her need to hand over her power in the bedroom is something instilled so deep in her, that she’s been looking for this in every man she’s allowed near her. I don’t want my ability to provide this to be the only reason she keeps coming back.
“Maybe I’ll fuck you bare,” I threaten, sweeping my finger from her clit to her ass. “Fill this pussy with cum.”
She looks over her shoulder, her body frozen under my touch, and I read it as a hard limit for her.
“Not this time,” I say, dipping my thumb back inside of her. “Your pussy is too fucking tight. I want it to last.”
The slightest nod of her head is all I need to see to know that the threat is more than okay, but actually doing it can’t happen. I respect that. Pushing boundaries is one thing. Crossing them completely compromises everything, and I’d never do that with any partner.
“If you scream too loudly, someone will report us to the front office,” I warn as I tease her entrance with the tip of my cock. “If someone knocks on the door, you’ll spend the rest of the day on your knees, my cock so deep in your throat you won’t be capable of making a sound.”
Her moan makes my balls ache because it sounds like she doesn’t exactly hate the idea.
I grind my teeth together when I slide inside, the grip of her perfect cunt tight as her warmth surrounds me.
I may have talked too big of a game because my nuts are already threatening to draw in close.
I’ve had this woman on her back, face down, riding my cock facing me and away, so I know from experience that there isn’t a position that would help my current predicament. Pulling out of her is the only thing that would postpone my orgasm, and I’m just not masochist enough to suffer that type of punishment.
Her knuckles turn white as she grips the sheet, her body lifting a little, standing on the tips of her toes when I press inside of her fully. She doesn’t complain, and when I pull back, she rocks her hips, hating my retreat. She’s utter fucking perfection, and is stroking my ego without saying a single word.
“You can come,” I tell her when I slam back inside.