Page 113 of Whit

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It’s not motivating me to stop.

So, I just let us roll back a bit. The truck slides to the left, the tires slipping over the loose rocks beneath us, and then I put Betsy in gear, and we lurch forward, taking a slightly different path up the hill. When we finally make it to the top, Whit is breathing heavily, his eyes wild.

“You do that again, and you will be very, very sorry.”

I eye him with a smile and then snap on my seatbelt.

He looks a little less worried now, though he’s still fuming.

“Promise,” I say, and Whit opens his mouth to reply when I let go of the clutch, and we crest the hill and begin our very slippery descent.

When we make it back to the house hours later, Whit marches straight into the house, muttering something about a shower. He’s pissed. Although I saw him smiling a few times, but he’d bite them back if he caught me looking.

“What did you do to him?” my aunt asks as she watches Whit disappear upstairs. “You better not have scared him away. I was looking forward to planning your wedding. And I want grandbabies.”

“Want those things too,” I say and then take the stairs two at a time, looking for my man.

I find him washing the dust away from our little adventure in the shower.

So, I join him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his wet body into mine.

“Don’t be mad,” I say, and he ignores me, continuing to wash himself.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. As punishment.”

He pauses for a moment and then says, “You’d do that anyway.”

I run my hands down his chest and cup his soft cock in my hand.

“Maybe, I’ll justnotfuck you,” Whit says, and I gasp, turning him in my arms and glowering at him. “That would be punishment enough.”

His eyes sparkle with mischief, and I lean in to press a kiss to his lips, but he turns his face away, and my mouth hits his cheek.

“Seriously?” I whine. “You can’t still be mad at me.”

Whit arches an eyebrow at me and says, “Hands on the wall, Caleb. I’m going to wash you.”

I watch him for a moment. He has this look in his eyes, and I’m worried for a moment. Whit’s out for revenge, and I feel I’m going to be very, very sorry soon.

“On the wall, Caleb,” he bites out, and when I do as I’m told, he ends up washing me like he said he would. And spends way too much time caressing my cock, bringing me so close to orgasm that I’m thrusting my hips forward, seeking release. But then he suddenly steps away and tells me to rinse.

I’m panting, my cheeks red, my heart thundering in my ears. Is it possible to expire from blue balls?

“You can’t be serious,” I mutter, and it's Whit’s turn to chuckle darkly.

“I’m very serious, Caleb. I told you to stop being reckless, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t even wear your seatbelt.”

I frown at him and then reach for my aching cock, but he grabs my hand, pushes it against the wall, and leans forward, his mouth on my ear.

“Touch yourself today, and I won’t fuck you for a week.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Try me.”

I groan and sag in disappointment when he leaves the shower. Rinsing off, I glance at my sad, weeping cock and apologize for the punishment Whit has in store for both of us.

* * *


Tags: Cora Rose Romance