Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I’m in my personal heaven. I never imagined I could let a man do the things to me that Dalton does, but his easy going nature means one minute I’m laughing at some stupid joke about fucking a hot Pop-Tart, the next he’s an insatiable sex machine bending me over and pulling down my pants.
When lubed fingers push past my rim, I shiver, still sore from letting him have me twice yesterday. I already knew it might be a bit too much, but then he rolled me over, play-wrestling me on the floor while The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari played on my TV, and suddenly I was full of cock and regretted nothing.
Is it normal that I can’t remember the number of times we had sex? It’s only been two weeks, but maybe it doesn’t matter. The burden of secrecy weighed heavily on my shoulders, and now I’m finally free.
He’s so good at making me feel normal about all this too. For years, I was self-conscious about my fantasies, and the needs they created, but even when he drives me crazy, when I lose control and say or do embarrassing things while he tops me as though he hopes we can make a baby, he’s simply enjoying himself. He’s nothing like some of the dominant, smug assholes I’ve experimented with in the past.
I rock my hips to meet three fingers lodged inside me, and everything about this moment is fucking perfect until my phone starts to buzz.
It’s on the counter, so very close to my face, but when I spot my mother’s name, I shut my eyes and ignore it, because I won’t be taking a break from pleasure to answer another question about menu preferences for the wedding I’ve cornered myself into.
Fortunately, the ringing soon stops, and I rise to my toes, trying to get Dalton’s thick fingers to touch my prostate, because—
“Fuck, yes,” I growl when electric sensations dance down my legs. “I-m… fuck, I’m ready…”
The sex hasn't gone downhill from that first mind-blowing time either. If anything, it's gotten even better, because he listens, notices my reactions to things, and adjusts how he fucks me. So now he knows how much to stretch me, that I enjoy a bit of pain and having my limits pushed, that I like his weight on top of me, and that if he pushes the right buttons, he can fuck me silly midway up the stairs. Which he did last week.
Dalton slowly pulls his mouth off my cock, and gives my balls an embarrassingly tender few kisses, but I’m past caring about decorum. "I love your hole…" he whispers, still languidly pumping his fingers into me.
What he leaves unsaid is ‘stretched and slick’ for his dick but I appreciate the sentiment, nevertheless.
I slide my foot back, then raise it, rubbing it against his knee, because I want more. As pleasurable as his mouth is on my cock, there’s a greediness in me, a thirst demanding that I’m reduced to begging while he pins me to a surface. It’s almost a slight when he takes his time this way, and I itch to make him lose control, be so aroused by me he can’t hold in his passion anymore.
“Now.” I try to make it sound like an order, not begging, but I’m not sure if I succeeded.
“Love it when you whine for me,” he says and stands up behind me.
Did I whine? Oh, fuck. Maybe? It’s for his ears only.
Dalton’s dressed in a slightly tight T-shirt and a pair of black jeans, but his cock is most definitely out and standing proud. He puts a rubber on in seconds, as if he’s practiced the move for a competition, and slides his stiff dick between my ass cheeks.
“I didn’t get that,” he teases. “You want my cock in?”
I want to strangle and kiss him all at the same time, and fuck, why is that angry emotion so delicious?
“You bastard…” I mumble, rubbing my ass against him, but the moment his powerful hands climb my torso, all the annoyance is gone, replaced by a sweet sluggishness. Everything about me is sweet now, and I wish for him to consume me.
He positions his cockhead against my hole and I bite my lips in anticipation. It’s so fucked up that I love the moment of discomfort when his thick dick pushes in, when I’m forced to yield, and he fills me with a part of his body. My own cock is already dripping with pre-cum, revealing my arousal.
“Am I though?” Dalton chuckles. “I just licked your pretty pucker like I’ve never seen a sweeter one. I’m a good guy.” He punctuates his last words with a merciless thrust of hips, and half his thick cock is inside me in an instant. His aroused groan is what wet dreams are made of, and when the initial burn transforms into a heat quickly spreading all the way to the tips of my toes, those dreams of mine become reality.