The Girlfriend Treatment Read Online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
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My hips jerk off the bed reflexively, the headboard cracking beneath my grip. Splintering right down the center.

I have to clench my eyes shut and breathe in and out through my nose. Can’t look at her. Can’t or I’m going to hit send on this climax. It’s brewing just below the surface, because I swear, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life than her body. Her high tits and bratty fucking hips. My hands ache to mold to them, grip them from behind. I’ve seen her cunt up close, I’ll never forget it, but that smooth plane of stomach between it and her navel is dying to be eaten, too. I want my fucking name tattooed right there. Then there’s the soft looking texture of her skin, how she begs to be licked all over.

I can’t take it—and that was only a snapshot taken in a glance.

When I open my eyes again, she’s folding her dress and placing it in her overnight bag, bending over as she does it and treating me to a view of those slappable little cheeks.

“Petra,” I grate. “Please. I’ll do anything to fuck you.”

She saunters back toward the bed, cupping and massaging her tits in her hands. “You really changed your tune since this afternoon, haven’t you?” At the foot of the bed now, she climbs on, one knee at a time and crawls toward me. Up my body in a sensual prowl, her eyelids at half-mast. “I told you. No sex until you learn some self-control.”

“I’m very close to having none.”

She clucks her tongue at me, three times. Purses her lips. “Do you have a condom?”

My brain struggles through a dense fog. Condom.

Of course, I didn’t bring protection. I didn’t think I’d need it.

Not with a nineteen-year-old.

“Bad boy,” she chides, her eyes bright. Turned on, even if she’s pretending to be irritated with me. “No touching, then,” she says, her voice a combination of stern and raspy.

I have no time to guess her intentions before she throws her legs across my hips and seats herself atop my cock—facing away. The pressure right where I need it makes me jerk, moaning, biting my bottom lip until it bleeds to stop myself from roaring for friction. Dirty-blonde hair spills down her back and she shakes it out, planting her hands between my outstretched legs on the mattress. The position causes her to lean forward and those butt cheeks to spread, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, but then she slides her knees wide open on the bed, practically doing to splits on top of me. In nothing but those high heels and sheer thong.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she shakes her ass for me.

“My sisters tell me that sometimes a client just wants a filthy little lap dance.” Slowly, lightly, she grazes her barely covered cunt along the ridge of my cock. “What about you? Would you be happy with that, big boy?”

I can’t formulate words.

My hands are twisted in the comforter, my breath wheezing in and out of my lungs. From my position behind her, I can see it all. The soaking tulip of her pussy, the limber arch of her spine as she lifts her hips and jiggles her tight ass cheeks. It’s a show worth millions of dollars and all I can do is stare, in a trance, my gaze eventually zeroing in on the puckered clench of her asshole. It’s right there, on the other side of the sheer strip of nothing. Red bleeds into my vision, my heart rapping in my chest.

Take her down and fuck her.

She’s begging for it.

She knows I can’t withstand this and she’s doing it anyway.

Is it possible she wants me to break?

“Petra, I’m warning you.”

“You’re warning me?” She lowers her full weight down, mashing her soft sex on top of my cock and rotating her hips. “I’m warning you to control yourself. You don’t have a condom, so you can’t have this kitty.” She bears down with an oooh. “I can feel how bad you want it, though.”

I’ve literally gone through months of torture training, faced violent interrogations in real life…and none of it compares to this girl riding my dick in the reverse cowgirl, occasionally lifting her hips to shake her ass for me. I would give the enemy whatever they wanted to know in seconds. I’m not going to make it out of this alive.

“I need to come” I belt, raggedly.

“I’ll decide what you need.”

I curse behind my teeth and I can’t help it, I fixate on that asshole again. I didn’t get a chance to taste it earlier when I went down on Petra, and the oversight is unacceptable. I’m suddenly flooded with a need to bury my face between those supple cheeks and get the flavor. The ache of my cock becomes unbearable when I think about how easy it would be. How I could pin her down and lick her asshole and she wouldn’t be able to stop me.


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