Lost in the Pages

Ryan Keely sits in her empty apartment, fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. The ache between her legs has been getting worse each night. She cracks open the paperback romance, reads two lines about silk sheets and rough hands, and suddenly the room feels smaller, hotter. Stirling Cooper walks through her door like he was summoned from those same pages. He yanks her up, spins her, plants her palms against the cold wall. Her skirt is already pushed up to her waist. He sinks two fingers inside her, works them deep, then replaces them with his cock in one hard thrust. She gasps into the page, eyes scanning the words while her body clenches around him. Stirling grunts, hips snapping, driving her onto her toes with every stroke. Sweat beads between her shoulder blades. The paper edge cuts into her fingers as she grips the book tighter, reading faster, moaning softer. Every time she turns a page he fucks her deeper, like he's racing the words themselves. Her knees shake. The climax builds from her spine outward, exploding when the heroine in the book finally comes. Ryan's forehead presses against the wall, book still open in her hand, legs trembling as Stirling empties himself inside her with a low growl that vibrates through her ribs.