Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
She wants this.
As much as I want her.
Somewhere during the kiss, the movement of her hips becomes frantic, and my cock fucking hurts with the need to be inside her. She picks up speed.
“How wet are you?” I question as I lightly kiss her lips.
She slides her hand between us, still rocking on top of me. I’m in a trance as I watch her fingers slip under the waistband of her pajama bottoms and then lower before she pulls them out and raises two of them to my mouth before pressing them between my lips.
If I were a sane man, right here and now would be where I would have lost it and taken her. But luckily for her, I’m a fucked-up man, and she’s only feeding that darker side of me.
Sucking on her fingers, I take in the taste of her. She’s delicious. Fucking decadent.
Then she’s unbuttoning her pajama shirt with her free hand and baring her breasts to me. After pulling her fingers from my mouth—I instantly miss the taste of her sweet cunt—she slides her hand around the back of my head, threading her fingers in my hair and shoving me forward until my mouth is on her breast.
“Arlo,” she whispers my name as I take her nipple into my mouth and bite it. She lets a soft scream fall from her lips as she comes, and it’s like fucking heaven. Cora, in front of me, completely undone, and I haven’t touched her once with my hands.
“Imagine what I can do to you when I can touch you,” I tell her as I kiss her nipple and suck on the upper curve of her breast, marking her.
“Did you just give me a hickey?” she asks in shock.
“I did.” I smile, and she pushes off of me. When she’s standing, her legs unsteady—the sight of which pleases me greatly—she looks pointedly down at my still-hard cock.
“I can help with that,” she offers.
I shake my head and stand, adjusting myself, and then reach for her shirt, pulling it open so I can see both tits. Magnificent.
“Good night, Cora. Thanks for letting me in.” And then I turn and stride out the door. My cock is as hard as ever, and the scent of her is all over me.
I’m not sure I’ll ever wash these clothes again.
SEVENTEEN
CORA
What has gotten into me?
Why did I do that?
Why did I allow him to do that to me?
Shit, I shouldn’t have.
I start pacing back and forth. My shirt is still open, and my underwear is soaked.
He did promise he wasn’t going to fuck me tonight. I guess he’s true to his word. So why do I feel like I’ve been fucked in more ways than one?
Glancing down at my breast, I see the hickey he left there and immediately go to the bathroom to find the toothpaste. One of my mother’s boyfriends used to give her hickeys, and she would tell me the best way to get rid of them was by applying toothpaste to the affected area. I’m not sure how true it is, as this is my first time having one, but I hope it works. Otherwise, I’ll have to wear shirts that show less cleavage until it’s gone.
As I stare at myself in the mirror, looking like I’ve been fucked good and hard, I even feel like I have. Why does that man make me feel like a teenager? I just got off by dry-humping him, and he never touched me once. But he did kiss me and bite my nipple, which I actually loved.
My phone rings, and I ignore it as I strip off my damp pants and panties because they now need to be washed. Hell, maybe I need to be washed. And maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow thinking this was all a dream. Even though I know it wasn’t.
What does this mean for us?
What do I do now?
Do I keep seeing him?
I think I already know the answer to those thoughts as I step into the shower. I like what he’s offering, even though I ended things with Luke because I didn’t want to keep doing that.
And yet, here I am, thinking of doing the exact same thing with someone else, though I have a feeling fucking Arlo would be life-altering.
I used to think no man would love me. Maybe it’s me, and I’m the reason I keep falling into these sex-only arrangements. I must give off some type of vibe that screams, will not be a wife, but I’m down to fuck.
Then I realize how ridiculous that sounds.
I’m not that stupid.
I’m worth more than that.
It’s just that I’ve been so closed off from the real thing, which is why I keep falling into the same pattern. I get that part, but now I’m in my thirties, and I think it’s time I stop.