Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
And it doesn’t help that he’s making all these sounds. Back when he was sucking on my tits and my belly, he did groan and grunt, and it all felt needy and horny, arousing. But this is different. This is so much more intense and Jesus, lewd. He’s slurping too. All unabashedly and with abandon, which gets me going even more. Like he’s actually drinking from my pussy. Not to mention, his head goes up and down and side to side and his stubble scratches my inner thighs.
I think I pass out.
Or at least lose all concept of time and space. Because the next thing I know, he’s rising from between my thighs and crawling up over my body. He’s covering me once again, the length of his sweaty body pressing against the length of mine, settling himself with his hips between my trembling thighs and his hands framing my heated face.
“Eyes on me,” he commands in a gruff voice.
I blink them open and try to focus.
“This is it,” he says, his eyes looking all drugged and wild.
For the first few seconds, all I can do is take him in. His ruby red, glistening lips. I’m a little shocked at how wet his mouth looks, but then I glance at his jaw, at the actual droplets clinging to it, to his throat even, and oh my God, is that me?
Did I do that to him?
I bring my hands from where they were clutching the sheets in a death grip and cup his jaw on both sides. “Did I… Did I do that?”
Possessiveness is so thick on his features that it might as well be another presence in the air. “Yeah, my baby like to squirt.”
“Oh no,” I breathe out.
“Oh fuckin’ yes.”
I caress his jaw with shaking fingers. “But I’m sorry. I—”
His stomach hollows out with his breath as he rasps, “I’d drown a thousand times if it meant I’d get to taste your sweet little snatch on my way over to the other side. So your sorry is what I call my heaven and I never wanna come up for air, yeah?”
“Arsen,” I moan, twisting under him, which is when understanding dawns. I know what he meant by this is it because his cock is right there. Right at my entrance. At my restless movements, his head brushes against my pussy and we both shudder.
He presses his thumbs on my cheeks. “You hold on to me now, yeah? This is gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you more than I need to. So you’re gonna do exactly as I say and—fuuuck.”
That was me. I did that, making him break off mid-speech because I took matters into my own hands. I arched my back and put my hands on his ass, pushing him inside on my own. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what he was going to say, but whatever. I didn’t want him to waste time talking and educating me when I needed him in there. When I needed the hard part to be over.
Namely, the taking of my virginity.
And it was hard, I’m not going to lie.
I jerk at his entry and gasp, my eyes going wide at the stretch. He curses before dropping his forehead to the crook of my neck. His breaths are gusty, creating a mist over the column of my throat. I blink up at the wooden ceiling as I wait for the pain to pass. It’s like a sting, like a needle piercing through. Sharp in the beginning but now dulling out. When I think it’s gone, I tilt my face to the side and whisper, “It’s done.”
He stiffens over me. Not that he already wasn’t all rigid, but at my words, his frame snaps tighter and he looks up. “What?”
My hands are still on his ass so I dig my nails into the hard globes and reply, “You’re in.”
His eyes narrow farther.
“The h-hard part’s over, right? Now it’s all… it’s all smooth sailing.”
I swear I feel him throb inside of me and the pain comes back. Okay, so maybe it won’t be all smooth sailing, but at least I’m not a virgin anymore, and everyone is always talking about how that’s the most wonderful thing. Plus, I don’t think I bled at all. So I’m sure it’ll be okay.
Only he doesn’t think that because slowly, he rises up from my body. He pushes himself up on his arms, his shoulders straining, looking like he’s going to do a push-up. He looks down at me with what I can only call an angry expression.
Angry and aggravated, pained even.
Then, with flaring nostrils, he says, “If you think”—he comes down, his biceps bulging with the action, his torso pressing into mine, sort of pinning me down with his weight—“I’m in”—he pulls out of me a little, and my limbs tighten around him, refusing to let go—“then, baby, you’re in for a very rude awakenin’.”