A Busty Bride for the Billionaire (Contemporary Erotic Romance)

A Busty Bride for the Billionaire (Contemporary Erotic Romance) by Vanessa Wilde Read Free Book Online

Book: A Busty Bride for the Billionaire (Contemporary Erotic Romance) by Vanessa Wilde Read Free Book Online
Authors: Vanessa Wilde
them at night... but never had I felt them held that way. I finally understood what they were made for.
     
    He kneaded my breast, and dug into it gently with his fingertips, and sent goosebumps coursing down my back with the single-mindedness of his attention.
     
    The molten gold in my heart starting to slide into my stomach, kindling a warmth in me that spread downwards.
     
    I clutched desperately at his hair, and moved my hand onto my mound, sliding over the folds of my pussy through my pyjama-shorts a few times, before inevitably rubbing circles over my clit.
     
    He pressed his face between my breasts, squeezing them around his face, and nibbled at my other nipple, before sucking on it hard, letting it spring from his mouth with a popping sound.
     
    Then he started to gnaw at them with a growing ferocity, forcing me onto my back as he pressed his face ever more insistently against me, until he ended up straddling me. His knees were on either side of my hips, and his hands were on each of my shoulders, pulling me up into his mouth just as he pushed me downwards with his lips.
     
    I pulled my leg up, and hooked my big toe around the waistline of his shorts – pulling them over his butt and down his thighs.
     
    His manhood finally sprung free.
     
    It felt as if the world had just stopped spinning.
     
    Nothing could have prepared me for this.
     
    No porn videos watched clandestinely on my smartphone. No amount of times googling “largest penis size possible petite girl”.
     
    It was perfectly, ramrod straight, rising up into the air to bulge ever wider at the end, almost like a baseball bat. Its size had something of a baseball bat quality to it as well, for that matter...
     
    A thick drop of precum shone at the tip of his shaft, a trail of it dripping down it, catching the silver glint of the moonlight entering through the window.
     
    “Ja–... Janice... can I?”
     
    Oh... Oh God. There's... there's just no way... Wait, how did it even get to this point? Why am I lying under my gargantuan lunk of a stepbrother, and why are my breasts glistening with his saliva? Why am I wet for him – so wet I'm rubbing my thighs together, to relieve some of it... Why the heck would I think of losing my virginity to this... callous idiot... this insensitive tool... this... this...
     
    Then my gaze moved back upwards – away from that impossibility sprouting between his legs, and up to his face. His frightened, vulnerable, child-like eyes. His trembling, desperate mouth. The creases of anticipated rejection furrowing his brow.
     
    I felt myself smile, and saw the warmth of it reflected in his eyes.
     
    I felt myself pull his t-shirt up his chest, over his head and the steely arms he lifted in succession to let the last remnant of his clothes slough off him. That left nothing but his tight, textured mass naked above me – covering me like a Cathedral over its congregation.
     
    I felt myself uncross my legs, and work them to either side of his own, my ankles sliding against his bunched calves.
     
    I felt myself nod.
     
    And then, I felt him slide my pyjama-shorts to one side, and press himself against my entrance. It felt as if the head of him covered my entire slit, much wider in circumference than the hole which was supposed to contain it. But slowly, he worked his thumb between us, and teased out my labia, causing me to arch involuntarily upwards, and a gasp to escape me.
     
    I didn't feel him enter me.
     
    All I remember is the bucking rush of my orgasm... and then, as the throes of it faded... I remember the foreign feeling of his apple-sized head inside me.
     
    I had only had my fingers before. One, sometimes two – and, once, the handle of a hairbrush.
     
    Luckily, all the air had been expelled from me in a long, low grunt when I came. If it hadn't, then our parents would have heard me shout, and our lives would have been over.
     
    As it was, I don't understand how they didn't hear the rasping intake of

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