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“There’s my spitfire.”
I try to climb off him, but his grip tightens. “You never asked me my safe word.”
I feel like this is a trap, but I ask, “What is your safe word?”
“Why, Shagspeare, I thought you would never ask…” He pauses for effect.
“Just tell me already.”
“Your wish is my command. ‘Anaconda.’”
“What?” A laugh bubbles its way up.
He points down.
“Are you suggesting that something that makes you proud is your—”
“You don’t believe me?” he cuts me off, hiking a brow up suggestively.
“Well… I…”Anaconda?“It is a brazen claim.”
“When a man makes a bold statement like that, he better be able to back it up. I feel confident in my assessment.”
“Wow, you’re not kidding.”
“Nope. Not on this topic. But I guess if you want proof.” He shifts back on the bed enough to make room between us. “Unzip my hoodie.”
“This better be good.” I am covering my curiosity with sass.
I swiftly unzip the oversized hoodie, which conceals his circus tent-sized pole from view.
I swallow.
“That can’t be all cock.” I am somewhat nervous about the reality of what I am looking at.
“Are you game to prove me wrong? Touch me.Feel me,Shagspeare.”
I refuse to back down, not hesitating to prod it, then I squeeze the thick length through his shorts. “Ooh…” I know my eyes are bulging. Even my hand can’t wrap around it. “This must be some kind of trick,” I murmur. I’ve only seen average-sized cocks, but this appears supernaturally large. “You have a cock prosthetic in your pants,” I announce as though I have solved the mystery, but I am only playing with him because, indeed, that is an anaconda.
He laughs. “Good one. I have not heard that line.”
I further investigate by wrapping both hands around it, traveling his length, back and forth.
Tucker tips his head back, moaning. “Jesus, woman, you are gonna make me embarrass myself. Hands off Anaconda, if you don’t want to play.”
I unhand the man. “It’s humungous. Does your back ache?” Now I am just being funny, but my va-jay-jay speaks up performing an operetta, challenging me to a dual with it.
“You can take it up with my Mom and Dad. They are the ones who gifted me genetically. I could ask the same of your amazing breasts you have covered up for me. Dare to share? We can have a show and tell.”
“Okay, point made, and of course, my breasts are real. You can’t take it up with my parents, but I can assure you—”
“Touché. I believe you.”
He brings my body flush with him, knowing full well what he is doing by the wicked smirk on his handsome face. “Christ, woman, I can feel how wet you are through that scrap of black,” he rumbles against my parted lips.
I let out a strained noise. “Royal, get me away from that thing, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I have rules. Dammit!”
He chuckles. “There’s no need to fear Anaconda. He serves to bring great pleasure.” He readjusts his hold on me; the movement has his splayed fingers gripping me even closer to my va-jay-jay.
