Series: Penny Dee
Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Kissing Silas is something I do quite enjoy. He is gifted with his tongue, especially between my legs. He devours me like a starved man. I know how desired I am by him, and it only makes me hungrier for more. How much of this man can I steal and explore? When was the last time a body came to life like this? If at all, ever?
I slide a hand up to his throat, squeezing the same way he had done to me, and I bite his bottom lip as I tug, feeling his cock jerk. I can’t help but smile at how responsive his body is to mine.
“Your cunt squeezes my cock so perfectly,” he whispers into my lips, going to kiss me again, but I hold him down, just keeping my lips a breath away.
“I like it better when you fuck me and don’t talk,” I lie. I do like it when he talks dirty to me. If I could keep him quiet in real life and only let him talk when he has his cock buried inside me, I feel like we could have potential.
“You are lying…” he says in more of a growl, and I don’t argue with him. “But that’s okay, baby—I already know what you like.” Then his hand slaps my ass hard.
The mark spreads like wildfire, my entire body pinching tight while I ride his cock, back and forth, back and forth, riding my high as my legs begin to tense.
“Oh fuck,” I curse as he pulls me down by the front of my shirt and kisses me, as if demanding he gets to taste every labored breath. The orgasm hits me so fucking hard that I have to bite his lips to stop the scream.
He grunts and jerks into me, pinning me in place as my pussy milks his cock. The taste of copper explodes in my mouth, and I realize one of our lips is bleeding, but I don’t care as we fall into a steady rhythm, my hips slowly sliding back and forth.
I lay my forehead on his, closing my eyes as I try to catch my breath. My skin is on fire, his hands scorching my skin in every place he touches.
Was sex always meant to feel this good? This addictive?
Brushing my hair to the side, I push away from him. “You should leave now.”
“No,” he says and helps me pull him out of me. My temple pulses at his defiance. I climb off the counter and casually sway my hips as I move to reach for a knife.
“You can leave now,” I say again, making a point to press the blade against the tip of my finger with a crazed smile. He sits up and pushes his legs over the counter. That’s when I notice his split lip and the claw marks down his chest. That heat in my lower stomach continues to stir.
“Shower with me,” he says and places his feet on the floor. He steps closer, and I point the sharp edge of the knife at his chest casually.
“No.”
“Shower with me,” he repeats, stepping even closer so the knife touches his chest, right above his heart, and a pin drop of blood blossoms against his skin. The color fascinates me; it always has. Just as much as I suspect it does for him.
“I’m good with one of these, just so you are aware,” I tell him.
“Oh, I am well aware,” he says, and presses farther into the tip. “Now, shower with me.” I’m no longer looking at the cut, but his eyes, and they are determined. He would very much impale himself on this knife just to get his point across. I’m not entirely sure what he’s asking of me.
“You are very demanding,” I tell him.
“I am.” A small bit of blood drips down his skin, catching my gaze again. “Do you think a little stabbing would really scare me?” he asks as he looks down at the knife. The cut isn’t deep, just surface level. So far.
“For any sane person, it would,” I say. He reaches up, and his hand covers mine, which is still holding the blade.
“I don’t think anyone in this room is sane.” I take in a sharp breath. Both cautious and curious that he sees the part of me that very few do. A part of me that I’ve been trying to hide ever since I came to Boston. “Come on, Doc, don’t tell me it’s past your bedtime?”
“You’re not as charming as you think,” I tell him.
“I’m not trying to be charming. I’m trying to fuck you again.” Liquid floods my pussy again, that demand between my legs returning. “I’ll fuck you hard, and I’ll leave the moment you can’t keep up with me anymore and fall asleep.”
I know better than to let him stay, but as I look over his exquisite body once again, I’m not thinking logically as I say, “Promise?” I’m curious as to whether he can keep to his claim. Though I have suspicions that he can.