Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“If anyone in those cars were to look in here, they’d see you bent over this couch with me behind you.”
I can’t breathe. My heart’s beating too fast, and my whole body buzzes.
There’s a tiny voice of reason in the back of my head asking if this is really worth the risk—something I’ve never had before—but he’s driving me so crazy, it’s easy to block out. I don’t care if I’m caught. That thrill of someone possibly watching gets me harder than any other fantasy I have. But for the first time, I’m thinking of someone other than myself. It doesn’t matter if I’m seen like this—I’m in my own home and with only one guy, which is better than in an alley with two other men—but Lane could lose his job if this is exposed.
I’m about to tell him to close the blinds when he replaces his two fingers with his cock.
I’m barely prepped, and he goes slow, but he’s so thick the sting is intense. I cry out in pain, and he stills.
“Are you all good?”
I love that he checked, but it’s unnecessary. “So good. I love it. I love your cock. Keep going.”
“You sound like it’s hurting.”
“Only in the best way. I promise I’ll tell you if it’s the wrong kind of pain.”
Lane pushes in more, and I almost lose it.
I have to grip my cock hard to get it to calm down.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Lane rumbles.
“If I don’t, this will all be over in about two seconds.”
“It’s cute you think that if you come too fast, it’ll all be over. It’s not over until I’m coming inside you. So unless you want to be fucked until your oversensitive prostate wants to grow legs and run away, you better hold off.”
I snort. “Well, with an image of a runaway prostate in my head, I think I’m all good. You really know how to talk sexy to me.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You’re no longer too close to the edge. Now, focus on outside. On every car driving by. Maybe one of your neighbors is walking their dog and happens to glance in here.”
“Urg. Now you’re bringing me back again.”
Lane pushes inside me the rest of the way, bottoming out.
There’s this push-pull he’s doing, putting me so close to spilling that I swear it’s all over, then distracting me with pain or his words until I’m calmer before doing it all again.
It’s a sweet, sweet torture, and I never want it to end.
I close my eyes and breathe deep as he begins moving in and out of me in smoother motions, stretching me wide, lazily brushing my prostate.
“Open your eyes,” he orders.
“If I close them, I can imagine every single person that goes by watching.”
“Whatever fulfills your attention whore fantasy.”
He thinks that’s an insult, but it really isn’t. I am an attention whore.
I close my eyes again. “Now, I need you to let go. You need to fuck me like you’re putting on a show because in my head, you are.”
“Oh, you want a show? I’ll give you a show.” Lane doesn’t hold back.
He moves in and out of me hard and fast, only getting harder and faster with every thrust. I have to white-knuckle the back of the couch to prevent me from crushing my dick. The slight brush of leather against the head of my cock only adds to the sensory overload, and I can’t take much more.
I feel him everywhere. From his commanding presence behind me, the way he moves inside me, the goose bumps he causes to race all over my skin. I’ve never been so … owned. There’s fucking to get off and have fun. And then there’s this.
It’s everything I’ve fantasized about but never quite found. The way he’s turning me inside out, not only physically but the way he’s making me a better person on the inside. Even if I hate it when he tries to drag my baggage into the conversation, there’s no denying I’ve taken more steps to cut the outside act with him more than anyone I ever have.
And as he continues to own me, that sense only grows.
Lane might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, whether I’m willing to admit that aloud or not.
“You’re so tight,” Lane says. “Now it’s my turn to worry about coming too fast.”
As much as I’d love to hold out forever, I know it’s not going to be possible. “I’m close too. Tell me when you’re about to lose it. I want to come together.”
“You better start jerking yourself because …” He stops to take a breath. “It’s … oh fuck, I’m coming.”
My hand flies to my cock, and I jerk fast. Lane’s thrusts turn wild before slowing right down, but even then, he changes from short and shallow to hard and deep. He’s breathing heavy, slowly coming down, but it’s not until he says, “Come, Oskar,” that I finally unleash.