Read A Leap in the Dark (Assassins of Youth MC Book 2) for Free Online Page B

nurse, I know that a penis pounding away inside a vagina is not the most scintillating thing in the world. There are minimal nerve endings inside the vaginal canal. Fucking like that is more like an assault than “lovemaking.” It’s all about the clitoris, and for some reason our vengeful God designed us so that the clit sits a bit too high up to get much action during penetration. I’d had success using a vibrator while Giovanni—and a few boyfriends before him—did me dogstyle. Still, it always felt artificial and forced, so I usually just let him assault me, smiling weakly afterward.
    I’d learned that self-love was the best, and now my fingers leisurely stroked my clit, already elongating and filling with blood. My free hand moved to my breast, where I lightly scraped my nail across the nipple. As I felt my body sink deeper into the mattress, my hips rocked rhythmically, as though I swayed to a bossa nova. My senses started shutting down one by one, my vision tunneling into blackness at the edges, my ears hearing nothing past my own heartbeat.
    Yet every centimeter of my skin was alive in the best sense, and I sped up my attention to my clit. This was where images, of sexy actors and other men I didn’t personally know, came into the picture. After seeing Magic Mike , lately it’d been Joe Manganiello. Imagine my shock when the face—and cut torso—of Levon Rockwell insinuated itself into my fantasies!
    After the initial shock, though, I made a split-second decision to go with it. I was already riding high on the orgasmic roller coaster. Blood filled my pelvis, and that indescribably tense yearning was building in my uterus and thighs. I wasn’t going to let an image of some asshole ruin it for me, so I went with it, allowing my fantasy Levon to strip off his flimsy tee and exhibit his ripped abs.
    Oh yeah . This was working better than Joe Manganiello, maybe because I’d recently seen Levon’s buff torso with my own eyes. My hypothalamus filling with oxytocin, getting ready to let the floodgates roar open, as Pretend Levon did a coy strip tease, sliding his palm over the stunning bulge in his too-tight jeans, and squeezing.
    It was the squeezing that did it. Bang , I went off like a firecracker. My thighs shuddered with the sudden release, my hips shimmying in a wild dance. The image of Levon evaporated almost with a loud pop as I felt my eyeballs roll up into my skull. Contraction gave way to new contraction, each one stronger than the last.
    It was always a challenge to my compromised brain to keep my fingers moving. I was like an epileptic with no control over my monumental muscle spasms. I was always surprised I didn’t swallow my tongue when an orgasm hit this strongly. That’s where it would’ve been nice to have a trained, outside person controlling the stimulation. It was a slippery slope to keep the action going while riding the tidal waves.
    To make matters worse, Deloy was talking to someone in the living room. He was probably just on the phone, but it was a distraction that instantly lessened the impact of my wild ride. Then, to add insult to injury, he opened my door without knocking first! He must’ve stood there for a full thirty seconds staring at me. Thirty seconds doesn’t sound like a long time when you’re not trying to ride a bucking bronco. I wanted to scream “Go away!” but that would’ve diminished my ecstasy even more.
    He finally shut the door quietly, but the damage was done. I was stuck unable to coax any more bliss from the climax that had been cut short. Any interruption at all always ruined the fine balance I’d built up. And a dorky kid who was probably a pussy virgin watching like a voyeur, well, that put a giant damper on it.
    I almost cried with frustration. It had been good, but it could have been better. I pulled my hand angrily from my sweats and wiped it off on my leg. Who the hell cared? I hadn’t brought enough clothes to last another day in this