Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“This?” he asks, sounding entirely too smug, but the second he hits it, he’s forgiven—so forgiven—because who knew that someone doing that to you could make your limbs tremble?
As though he senses how close I am, he avoids stroking it again as he works his fingers in and out of my body. He’s being so gentle and slow I can barely remember the pain until he starts to work in a third digit, and the stretched feeling returns. This time it’s a little more intense, and I let out a whimper. Foster slides back up and distracts me with a kiss that seems to make everything feel more intense. My hands card through his hair as I pull him closer, deeper, wanting more of … of everything. It’s not enough.
“Please …”
“Not yet.”
“Foster, please …”
“No. I’m not going to hurt you.” He keeps kissing, stretching, and rutting against my leg. “Fuck, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“Then do it.” I’m well aware I sound desperate, but now that it doesn’t hurt anymore, I have to acknowledge I like it. A lot. I push back on his hand, and if I feel this amazingly full on his fingers, I can’t wait to take all of him.
Foster makes a deep growly noise. “Oh yeah. You’re ready.”
Thank God.
His fingers slide out of me, and I groan in disappointment, which brings that smug look back to his face. I’ll never be able to see that expression again without getting hard.
Then he reaches for the condom.
Everything gets real. The intense need ebbs until I can think more clearly, and as I watch Foster roll the condom over his long, thick cock, I realize this is going to hurt more than a slight burn.
I’m ready.
I’m so painfully ready for it.
Foster looks down at me as I reach up to trace his impressive abs, wanting to feel them under my tongue. He catches my hand and lifts it to his mouth, eyes falling closed as he presses a hard kiss to my palm.
When he blankets me with his weight again, I pull him as close as I can. His forehead rests against mine, and then I feel the head of his cock at my entrance. My swallow is hard to get down.
“You can do this,” he reminds me, pressing forward.
I was right about it hurting.
But what I wasn’t expecting was how I welcomed the pain.
Foster moves slowly, pauses, and lets me adjust. His kisses are firm and sweet, a reminder that he’s here with me, and that I’m safe. I’ve never believed in anything as ridiculous as fate, but this moment feels undeniably like it was always meant to happen.
Perfect.
As he pushes in, his murmurs are filled with reassurances and promises that I’m doing well. When his hips finally press firmly against my ass, he kisses me bruisingly hard.
“Tell me when to move.”
It only takes a minute. “Okay, umm, slowly.”
Foster presses my legs up and starts to rock. I wonder for the briefest moment if this is what he’s like on the ice. All fierce and focused and completely sure of himself. His lips brush my temple. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
Baby.
The word zaps through me, and combined with how patient he’s being and how he’s taking care of me, it’s all too much. It’s becoming too hard to distinguish between how Foster’s making me feel versus how he’s making me feel, and the pressure in my chest is increasing.
I try to remind myself that I’m in control of my emotions, but at this very moment, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I pull him into a kiss, needing the connection as I tilt my hips so he can get deeper. Foster groans into my mouth, and his thrusts increase, getting faster and harder. Then he pegs my prostate.
I gasp and my head drops against the pillow, eyes rolling back at the pleasure. Why did I wait so long to try this? Why?
Foster presses filthy, open-mouthed kisses over my neck, and the second he wraps his hand around my cock, I come. My limbs shake, and I’m sure I completely check out for a moment.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Foster grunts. He stills and his mouth is back on mine, hands cupping my face as his hips twitch with aftershocks. He pulls back to let out a long exhale. “I love kissing you.” So he does it again. And again.
When he finally slips out of my ass, it feels weird. Empty. He cleans us up and hugs me close, and with my eyes closed and his warm chest under my cheek, I let sleep slide over me.
Seeing Foster in class on Monday sets my cheeks on fire. I only left his bed two hours ago to go back to my dorm so I could shower and change.