Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“What?”
“I . . . haven’t . . .”
He stares at me, waiting.
“I . . .”
“You what?” He kisses me softly, as if to prompt me to speak.
“I haven’t had sex in a really long time.”
His face falls as he connects the dots. “Since?”
I shake my head.
“Jesus, Anderson . . . no pressure.”
“Why would that make you feel pressured?” I stammer.
He throws his hands up in the air. “Because, like . . . fuck.” He goes back to work on my blouse and throws it to the side and then stops and smiles as he looks down at me.
I close my eyes, so nervous that I can’t even look at him.
He slides my skirt off, and I stand before him in my panties and bra. He unhooks my bra, and then his lips drop to my nipples as he slowly slides my panties down and throws them to the side.
His eyes drop down my body and then up to my face, and he smiles softly.
“Don’t,” I whisper, embarrassed. “I must be a world away from the women you normally sleep with.”
“Why is that?” he whispers as he kisses my lips.
“I’m . . .”
“Oh, you mean this?” His hands run over my thighs. “A little cellulite,” he whispers. His fingertips dust over my stomach. “A few stretch marks.” He grabs the little pouch of fat on my stomach and gives it a tug, and I smile against his lips. “C-section scar.” He runs his finger over the large scar on my lower stomach. His hands go to my breasts, slightly saggy and not full like they used to be before the kids. He tweaks my nipples, which are large from breastfeeding.
My heart races as he touches all my insecurities.
He holds his hands out wide. “Do I look like a man who doesn’t like what he sees?” he whispers.
My eyes lower to his large erection, and then I drop my head.
“Claire.” He puts his finger under my chin and brings my face up to meet his. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers as he kisses me. “So fucking beautiful.”
He kisses me again, and it’s soft and tender and caring and not at all what I expected.
“You wear your insecurities here.” He pinches the bottom of my stomach. “Mine are on the inside,” he whispers. “Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”
“I knew it.” I smile against his lips.
He grabs my hips and throws me on the bed and then crawls over me.
“Be gentle, please,” he teases. “Don’t hurt me.”
I burst out laughing, because that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. “You idiot.”
He reaches down and swipes his fingers through my sex. His eyes flicker with arousal. “Hmm . . . so wet.” He bends and takes my nipple into his mouth and gives it a hard suck as he slides two fingers in deep.
“Oh . . . God.” My back arches off the bed as he begins to pump me.
“Spread them.”
I open my legs back to the mattress, and he goes slow at first to let me acclimatize. Then he picks up the pace. He really begins to ride me hard with his fingers.
This feels so foreign and new, and I push the fearful thoughts out of my mind.
It’s one time . . . just enjoy this.
My entire body jerks up and down on the mattress from the pressure.
Fuck yes . . . I need this . . . I so need this.
The sound of my wet arousal sucking him in is loud in the room, and the look of triumph in his eyes is so fucking hot. “Clench, baby,” he whispers. “Give me a taste of what I’m about to get.”
I clench hard, and his eyes roll back in his head. He pumps me harder, and I scream out as I come hard. I shudder, and my convulsion lifts me off the bed.
He screws up his face as he pumps me through my body’s rippling around his fingers.
He climbs over me with urgency.
“Condom,” I stammer through my fog.
“Shit.” He bounces up and grabs his trousers and fumbles around in the pocket for his wallet, and then his face falls in horror. “Fuck it. I only have one. How do I only have one?” He opens it and rolls it on.
I look up, surprised. “What kind of player are you?”
“Unprepared, obviously.” He lies back down over me and brings my legs up around his hips, and in one sharp movement he slides home deep. His eyelids flutter. “Fucking hell, Anderson,” he pants as he slowly slides out.
I smile up at him in wonder.
“Happy to report . . . the vagina is a perfect specimen,” he pushes out through gritted teeth. “No insecurities here.”
I burst out laughing. “Shut up, you fool, and fuck me.”
He widens his knees and slides in deep, and we find a rhythm. He does a circular thing, and it drives me wild. I begin to thrash beneath him.