Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“What would you like to see?” she questions innocently. “I want to put your mind at ease.”
“Everything,” I say hoarsely, desperately. “Everything.”
“Hmm.” Persephone folds her legs to the side and reaches for the top of her dress. She pulls it down over her arms, revealing her breasts. Her nipples peaked. Persephone gazes down at them with a sultry look, then leans toward the mirror. “I am well here,” she murmurs, slipping a finger around one of her nipples. “Can you see?”
Yes, I mean to answer, but no sound comes from my parted lips.
“Yes,” I manage to say finally. “Cup them my love. Touch yourself as I would.”
She does, her lips pursed in concentration. The pads of my fingers are on fire. I know how the tender flesh of her nipples would feel if I ran my thumb over them. I know how they would feel if I were to pinch them. I could make her moan. If only I could give her pleasure myself…but this will have to do.
“Pluck one,” I order her gently. With as much desire in my tone as I can offer. “Between your thumb and forefinger. I crave to watch you.”
“Like this?” she asks softly. Obeying beautifully. So beautifully cum leaks from the tip of my cock.
“Yes,” I answer in a dark murmur.
Persephone repeats her motion, then pinches harder, tipping her head back and letting out a sound that is almost a moan.
“Now the other.” I reach for a glass of whiskey and find none, then snap my fingers and allow one to appear. The ice clinks as I pick up the libation and enjoy myself fully with a gulp of the sweet liquor.
“Ooh,” she says, her voice straining to stay quiet.
“Does it hurt?” I question, pausing the theatrics.
“A bit,” she admits. “But—”
“Does it make you wet?”
“Yes,” she whispers. She adds, her tone lower, “You always do.”
“Do you wish it was me toying with your sweet body instead of your own fingers?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice quivering.
“What about my mouth? Do you wish I could put my mouth on those nipples and lick and suck them until you squirm, my queen?”
“Yes.” Persephone looks up at me from underneath her thick lashes. Her lips part in a tempting way, then close again. “Yes. I do.”
“I can’t see enough of you. Take off your gown.”
Seductively, she wriggles out of the gown, laying it on the chair behind her. Persephone leans out of view of the mirror, showing me the curve of her ass, and then returns and sits naked before the mirror, waiting for me to speak.
“You said you were wet, my queen. So soon?” I murmur.
“From the moment I saw your face,” she says and stops short before finishing, glancing away. A beautiful blush colors her cheeks. Is she only pretending to be shy? The rest of her body is arched proudly toward me, showing off her mouthwatering curves. “When I think of you. Every moment. My body craves you.”
“Show me.” My voice almost gives out. “Spread your legs and show me, my queen.”
Persephone parts her knees. Slowly. Deliberately. I think we’re both holding our breath. I’m certainly holding mine. I keep my eyes on her face until I cannot, not for another moment, then let my gaze trail down over her breasts and her belly and finally between her legs.
My cock is painfully rigid at the sight of my queen. My lover and my divine equal. Her sweet pussy is slightly swollen with her arousal, peeking open to reveal her core. Fuck me. I need her more than I could have known.
For a few moments, I don’t have any kind of existence. I’m nothing but my gaze, and it’s locked between Persephone’s thighs, and whatever remains of my being is blistering with primal need.
I roll the heel of my hand over my shaft and swallow thickly. How I need her. Everything in me needs her and to have her pleasure like I did before.
“Touch yourself,” I rasp.
Persephone exhales, her lashes fluttering. “How, my king?” A groan of satisfaction leaves me as my cock leaks precum.
“Your fingers. Your clit. Touch yourself,” I reply almost too quickly.
She makes a show of it, brushing them slowly down between her breasts, following the same path as my heated gaze. I watch her skim her fingers over her belly button, then the crease of her thigh, and then finally I watch her find her clit and circle it, teasing herself before she finally presses her middle fingers over it and circles.
The small moan is a sound I’ll remember for all of eternity. Her head falls back onto the chair behind her, but she lifts it up again to look at her own fingers.
How I manage to speak, I don’t know. “Does it feel good, my queen?”
“Not—” She shivers, which must mean her touch is more firm and greedy. “Not as good as you feel.” Her whisper is a beautiful sin.