Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
At first, Whit doesn’t do anything but roam his gaze over me. He reaches for me but pulls his hand back before he makes contact.
I step closer and take hold of his wrist. “Touch me.” I place his hand on my chest, and he runs his fingers over the smattering of dark hair there.
“Can I …” Whit pulls back and lifts the hem of his shirt, and I nod. Miles of skin appears as he takes it off and drops it to the floor.
Unlike me, he has no hair on his pecs or chest, just smooth and hard muscles.
I want my hands on him. My mouth. I want his hands and mouth on me.
“Fuck, I need you on top of me.” I can’t resist pulling Whit down on top of me as I fall back on the bed.
My head hits the pillow, but Whit doesn’t try to kiss me. He stares while he hovers above me.
I lift up so our mouths meet, and the sensation of the spiky scruff around his lips and jaw catches me off guard. I wonder if it’s something I’d ever tire of—if it’s possible to become desensitized to it. I hope not, because it turns me the fuck on.
Not much makes sense when I’m kissing Whit, but when I can focus on the roughness of his mouth, his commanding tongue, and the little groan he makes, I don’t care if I never figure him out. Or myself.
Whit pushes me so my head falls back onto the pillow, and he adjusts himself on top of me. That tiny bit of movement causes friction between us that almost makes my cock explode.
I break apart from his lips. “Holy fuck.”
“What?”
I lift my hips, replicating the sensation. “That.”
Whit shudders on top of me. “Feels good.”
“Feels fucking amazing. Keep doing it.”
“With pants or without?”
“No pants,” I say and begin wriggling to try to get mine off.
If it’s this good with layers of clothing between us, I can’t even fathom what heights it could take me without them.
We wrestle out of our jeans but keep our underwear on. I don’t want to push too far tonight. Him or me.
I want Whit to take his time and experience everything, and I’m still trying to make sense of this. Of us.
It’s not a rush to the finish line.
This time when Whit lowers himself, with only the thin material of our boxer briefs between us, my eyes roll back and my whole body trembles.
Whit moans, adding to the sensory overload as his cock rubs against mine and his big body moves on top of me.
Being boxed in by his masculine physique isn’t as weird as I thought it would be. It’s different, and there’s something about the power of it that’s a little unnerving, but not in a scary way.
With his mouth back on mine, his tongue doing wicked things, the best kind of shiver runs through me. My skin flushes, breaking out in goose bumps, and when he moves against me, my senses take over, and all I want to do is feel. His dick—so hard as it thrusts against mine. My cock and briefs are damp, soaked in precum. Every breath is a struggle, but I don’t care.
My hands run down the hard muscles of Whit’s back, and they contract under my touch. I grip his ass and push, making Whit move faster and harder.
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck.” He’s panting now as he breaks away from my mouth to take in gulps of air.
I lean up and kiss his neck, loving his needy response.
He reaches between us, but I can’t work out what he’s doing until I glance at the small gap between our bodies. Whit tucks his underwear under his balls, exposing the deep red tip of his hard cock. His hips rotate, dragging that dick along mine, which is still confined in my boxer briefs.
I can’t tear my eyes away, but then he says, “Rainn, I … I think I’m gonna …”
I look up in time to see Whit’s face contort. It’s the hottest goddamn image I’ve ever seen.
“Do it,” I encourage.
Whit lets go, his body giving out and leaning on me heavily through his release.
His cum hits my stomach. I thought that would weird me out, but it doesn’t. I’ve had cum on me before. Sure, it was my cum, but it’s no different with Whit. Although, it might be a little hotter. Like he’s leaving his mark on me.
I’m close but too distracted by Whit’s orgasm to think about my own. I want to puff out my chest with pride like some caveman. There’s something about having actual physical evidence of his pleasure on my skin that feels like an accomplishment.
He shifts to his side so his body is half on the mattress, one leg still over mine. “Can I …?” He shoves his hand down my boxer briefs and grips my cock.