Room 1208 Read Online Free PDF Page A

arched, arms straight and taut on
either side of her head, fingers digging into the mattress. The tendons of his
throat stood out in stark relief, his mouth slack in an extended groan, his
face a portrait of exquisite agony. Sweat glistened on his face and chest.
    He was so gorgeous.
    With one final grunt of pleasure, he collapsed on
top of her, his mouth buried against her throat.
    She felt residual tremors of their mutual release
as she smoothed her hands up his back. She loved the feeling of his complete
surrender to her embrace, the way he relaxed into her, so trustingly. His penis
was still rock hard inside of her. His hips nudged forward slightly, as if on
their own accord, reluctant to pull away.
    This was what she had dreamed about the most,
this feeling of oneness, this surrender of oneself to another. The cliché was
true. For a few rapturous moments, she’d felt like they were the only two
people in the world. She pressed a lingering kiss to his temple.
    He stirred. He gave one last, gentle thrust of
his hips then reached between them to grab the base of the condom before drawing
carefully out of her body. He kissed her cheek, a tender caress of gratitude,
before sliding off of her. He rolled to the edge of the bed and stood. “I’ll be
right back,” he murmured as he headed for the bathroom.
    Still in the lush stupor of afterglow, she languidly
watched his retreating figure, admiring the play of sleek back muscles, the
sculpted buttocks, thighs and legs. After he stepped into the bathroom, she
reached down to touch herself between her legs.
    She was a virgin no more.
    There was only a slight feeling of soreness
inside. It was more a pleasurable burn, a tingling reminder of his fullness and
hot possession. Her inner thigh muscles ached a little, unused to being
stretched and pounded the way they’d been. She dipped her fingers into her
vagina, feeling the still warm juices of her own arousal and orgasm. She wished
she could have felt what sex was like with no artificial barriers between his
body and hers. But, in spite of the condom, his erection had felt amazing. She
imagined it would feel even more spectacular naked. Bare skin against bare
skin, the hot gush of his ejaculation hitting her cervix…
    She brought her other hand to her breasts, idly
rubbing her nipples as she lost herself in her sweetly lurid imagining.
    “ Fuck , that’s hot.”
    The lusty growl, coming from the foot of the bed,
wrenched her out of her dreamlike state. She clenched her legs together and
reached for a pillow, intent on hiding her body from his smoldering appraisal.
She felt a crimson flush of embarrassment spread down from her ears to her
throat and chest.
    He grabbed the pillow and tossed it aside. “ Don’t .
Don’t hide from me. Not after what we just did.” He knelt down on the bed at
her feet and ran his palms up the outside of her legs before pushing them
between her clasped thighs to pry them gently but firmly apart. His eyes blazed
with renewed craving as they journeyed up her body to her rosy face. “Don’t you
know how absolutely stunning you are?” he asked softly, his tone a mixture of
admiration and bafflement.
    And it was at that moment, after two years of
therapy, two years of learning how to like herself and her body, two years of
parroting words of self-praise that now echoed hollowly in her memory, that
she, at last, truly felt beautiful. He’d revealed the truth of it in every
sweet caress, every sigh and groan and whisper. There was nothing false or
self-serving in his praise. His touch spoke genuine veneration as he grazed his
fingers over her thighs and hips, the soft swell of her stomach, her breasts,
her throat. He cupped her face in his hands and pierced her with intense blue
eyes.
    “Tell me your real name.”
    She swallowed, slanted her eyes away from his.
“Please… No names.”
    “Why?”
    “I-I didn’t expect… I hadn’t… We won’t be seeing
each other again.”
    “Why