Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I wanted to like the pain too. I’d never considered wanting it before, but the way the stinging stretch of his fingers radiated from my core, increasing, rippling heat under my skin. I knew then that I already liked it and desperately wanted more.
I wanted and wanted and wanted.
I lost myself in every sensation, basking in the faux intimacy.
I soaked up the soft chafe of his shirt against my thigh, the weight of his arm across my leg, the pressure of his knuckles digging against my opening, his fingers twisting and curling, pulling moisture back with his thrusts, leaving a mess dripping between my legs.
I liked this part. I learned to love it as each failed orgasm left me with the realization that this was as far as I’d go. My body never failed to get turned on. My mind never struggled to enjoy the connection.
So, I reveled in it.
He leaned closer, his breaths creating a wet heat against my neck. I tipped my head, encouraging him to add another sensory level, but he never moved close enough to kiss me. Instead, he used his mouth for other things.
“I can’t get deep enough inside you.”
“I need more.”
“You’re so tight.”
“Let’s try three inside your little cunt.”
“That’s such a good girl.”
“Yes, princess. Ride my hand.”
“I bet I could fuck you with my whole fist and it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Listen to your greedy pussy. So wet, leaking down my palm.”
“I can’t wait to hear you scream.”
“Scream my name, princess.”
“Come all over me.”
“All for me. Just for me.”
“So fucking sexy.”
“Good girl.”
“Perfect.”
“Come, princess. Come.”
That had been my plan all along. I’d spread my legs and invited him in because I needed him to win—I needed him to make me come and forget everything except that I was a woman who wasn’t broken and could come for a man, even if that man was Mr. D&D. After memories I’d long thought buried came roaring back, I needed to prove that I could shove them aside. That they hadn’t lurked in the shadows with a chokehold on my pleasure I hadn’t known existed. I needed to prove they didn’t own me. After that night, I needed to prove that I could come for me.
I didn’t let my past linger and haunt me. I made sure to lock it tight in a box.
At least, I thought I had.
Then, sitting on that stage, so close to coming with all those eyes on me, something triggered the lock undone and that same panic from high school came roaring back. It swarmed me until I lost sight between past and present, until Lucian pulled back, leaving room for me to return to the moment.
After tonight, I didn’t care about holding control over him or making a point to win. The only thing I wanted to prove was that even if I didn’t orgasm anymore, it wasn’t because they stole it from me. I wanted to prove that I’d lost my orgasm because I’d taken it away and buried it so deep I didn’t know how to get it back.
After tonight, I wanted to prove that I could get it back. Even if it meant using Lucian to do it.
The pressure built with each rough thrust of his hand, with each painful twist of his fingers inside me.
So close. So close.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured the finish, closer than I’d been in so long, growing desperate.
But the more I reached for it, the further it got.
I tried to remember the precipice I’d clung to on stage. Tried to recreate the feeling so I could fall over instead of clinging to my control. I couldn’t find it—like it never existed.
“Stop,” he commanded, his voice deep and hard. “Stop thinking about it. It’s just you and me. No rush. No finish line to reach.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, surprised at how well he read my mind.
“I could spend the next twenty-four hours with my hand shoved deep inside your tight little pussy. I’ll happily spend all night listening to the sounds of your wet cunt squeezing around my fingers. Even if you never come, every second is worth the tiny pants of pleasure you keep biting back. I could play with you all week with only the hope of those sexy lips parting and releasing the screams I know you want to.”
I became aware of each sound as he described them, losing focus on the image I created.
“I can barely make it through a meeting with your sultry voice making me hard. I would do anything to watch my name spill from your mouth—to hear you scream it.”
He roughly shoved his fingers deep and held them there, curling them against a place I never knew existed. The thumb that had teased with wide circles and gentle brushes settled heavy against my clit with purposeful strokes.