Page 29 of CurVy 13

A resting smile moves to my lips. I don’t have to search for the right book. I know the exact scene I want to read while he watches me.

CHAPTER 12

TYLER

Relaxed on the sofa opposite her reading nook, with my back to the rest and legs comfortably wide, I watch as a telling blush crawls up her delicate neck. It settles into a pretty hue on her soft cheeks.

I swallow.

She flicks the page. Shuffles that luscious arse on the bag. The beans shift beneath her, sucking her in.

I’m gonna fuck her on that.

One day.

Maybe when she’s pregnant.

And I am falling in love with her; my entire heart twists whenever she looks at me. And I hear a soft piano key sing with each bat of her long lashes.

This is it.

Everyone falls in love at first sight, but most are just too fucking fake to see it. Too rational. Too obedient to social formulas, norms, and conventions.

Love isn’t a formula.

Love isn’t sheet music. It isn’t play and rest, go and stop. It’s freestyle. It’s letting loose on the keyboard until sweat drops and every cord of muscle in your arms throb from giving that piece everything.

You gotta love in freestyle.

She peers up from the butterflied novel, a hooded gaze meeting me through her lowered lashes.

Gazing down again, she directs my attention to her bare knees as they twitch with restraint. I like her legs. I like her little black dress, snug around her curves and ending at her upper thigh, showing the start of where they kiss.

“Spread your thighs,” I demand.

She swallows, her eyes fluttering as she considers her next move. Her legs tremble. She parts her legs for me and traces the wet patch on her knickers, a slick line. She shows me her arousal. Up and down, she darkens the colour with more juices as she pleasures herself.

Blood roars through my veins, ballooning my cock until it’s unbearably uncomfortable and viciously hot.

Hungry for her, I lick my lips.

I put my hand down the front of my jeans and grip my throbbing muscle. My heart beats in my palm, so I soothe it with long strokes, up and down, matching her pace.

Up and down, baby.

“Show me.” I groan. “Push your knickers aside and show me your wet pussy. That’s it. That’s it.” I stroke harder as she parts her folds, displaying her soft, pink insides.

“Slowly,” I purr. “See, that’s pretty. So pretty. Don’t rush.” She meets my every request. “Mmm. Put a finger inside now. Just one. Fuck. Yes. See, you’re such a good girl for me. That’s a piece of beauty.”

She doesn’t look up from the page, but I don’t think she’s able to read or concentrate because her eyes have a sheen of arousal and are glued in place.

“Dip further inside. To your knuckle. Oh. Fuck.”

Precum leaks all over my hand, so I use it to lather my cock and work my shaft harder as it throbs to the beat of my rampant pulse.

I grunt, watching her, trying to keep my vision clear as pleasure seeks to fucking blind me.

“Push another finger inside. Show me how many you can get in. Yes. And another. Like that, baby. Show me how you’ll stretch for me. For us.”

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