THREE DAYS until Round 3 is HERE!
If you’re a part of the Natalie Wrye Newsletter (c’moooon, you know you want to), then you’ve seen this Exclusive Excerpt!
If you’re not, then this excerpt is for you.
The grey day has deepened into black, and where the rain fell in a steady shower merely hours ago, it now falls from the heavens in heavy sheets—huge blankets of water that smother the very air in my lungs.
No longer in my suit, I saunter out of my building in soaked black gym wear, the thick humid air making it difficult to distinguish between my own sweat and the condensation outside.
Exhausted does not even begin to describe how I feel.
I walk to the streets outside, and I am overcome with sudden mental and physical fatigue, the effects of my brain and body workouts both putting the brakes on an internal engine that is clearly overrun.
God, I can’t wait until I go home.
My stomach flutters when I realize that I get to go home to Elena. One thought of her cupcake-scented skin, and suddenly, my cock turns into steel.
Even casually dressed, she is beautiful, a sight to see when sashaying around in my oversized work shirts and sandals.
Like this morning.
Her shoulder-length hair constantly shifts in sexy disarray, and even now, when her eyes are sad, they are clear, blue pools of emotion, just as sheer and fucking breathtaking as the day that I met her.
And when she comes…
God, when she comes…
Those blue eyes come completely alive, and all the fire that usually resides in that hot-tempered mouth of hers shoots straight to her irises.
Amazing irises. Fucking unreal irises.
On anyone else they would be nothing but oval-shaped balls of cells and nerves, but on her, they are swirly, sky-blue kaleidoscopes.
They shift from hot to cool; flame to frost, with the flip of a switch… or a touch to her clit…
A kiss to her clit… a slow lick to her clit…
Mmmm. My mind continues to wander.
Elena has the type of pussy that begs to be licked—the type of plump, pink lips that almost smile at you, inviting you in… in every way.
I half-smile to myself. As I pass under the covered bridge outside of the building, it turns into a smirk.
I’ve had her pussy in every conceivable way.
And when she’s in my hands, there are so many more ways that I’ve yet to fuck her, so many other ways that I swear I could create.
Because each of these positions is a different knob on her perfect little body, and I have appointed myself the captain at her helm, pushing and pulling the controls to turn her on at my will.
Nothing has ever given me more pleasure.
And it is the very thought of that pleasure—and the realization that I may not have it anymore—that distracts me as I hike across the walkway towards my car.
In the throngs of a full-blown fantasy about Elena’s orgasms, I don’t even open an umbrella, choosing to brave the downpour on the short tour to where I parked.
Even at a normally busy lunch hour, the street is empty, and the few sounds that drift across the cement are not enough to distract me from my vivid daydream.
But the darkly clad man on that empty street is.