Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
“It felt good?” I ask softly.
She’s silent for a moment. Then, slowly, she nods.
“It…it felt like when you were sucking me—my nipples I mean—last night. In fact, they’re still, uh, at it.”
“Let me see,” I say.
Blushing and biting her lower lip, she opens her arms and lets me see her full breasts floating in the water. The two white blossoms are still at it, sucking her tight nipples.
“They…they won’t stop,” Irena confesses in a small voice. “It feels really good but I can’t stay like this forever—I need to get out of the tub.”
Fuck me. I bite back a groan and sit back on my heels, my cock aching.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, nipples still covered by the flowers, and all I can think about is how close I came to ripping the door off its hinges because I thought she was in danger.
But she wasn’t.
She was letting go…surrendering…feeling pleasure.
The thought makes me hot and hard in ways I didn’t think were possible.
“I should get out,” she whispers, still not meeting my eyes.
“You don’t have to. I’ll turn around if you want me to. If you want to come again, baby,” I offer.
She gives me a sidelong glance, her luscious mouth twitching slightly.
“Would you really?”
“No,” I admit. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this I don’t think I could look away.
“But it’s so embarrassing. They’re making me feel…oh!” She throws back her head and moans.
“What is it, sweetheart—are you all right?” I ask anxiously.
She nods.
“It’s just…the one between my legs is licking me again!”
Her confession hangs in the steamy air—a raw, vulnerable truth. Before I can respond, her body arches in the tub, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. The red bloom between her legs is moving with renewed purpose, its petals fluttering rapidly against her clit. The two white blossoms on her nipples suckle harder, their movements becoming rhythmic, almost hungry.
“Valen,” she gasps, her hands flying to the rim of the tub, knuckles white. “It’s… it’s not stopping. It’s getting more.”
I watch, mesmerized and helpless, as the vines coil back into action. They’re no longer gentle or exploratory—this is deliberate, targeted stimulation. A green tendril about as thick as two of my fingers together slithers under the water, joining the red bloom. But this one doesn’t lick or suck—it prods, seeking, and then—with a slick, wet sound that makes my own breath catch in my throat—it pushes inside her.
Irena moans, but it’s not a sound of pain. It’s a cry of overwhelmed pleasure. Her hips buck, driving the invading tendril deeper. The water sloshes violently around her, spilling over the side and getting me all wet. I don’t give a fuck—I can’t stop watching.
The vine is fucking her—a slow, deep, insistent penetration that matches the sucking rhythm of the blossoms on her nipples and the frantic fluttering of the one attached to her clit.
“Gods,” I rasp, frozen in place by the sheer, primal spectacle. Jealousy is a bonfire in my gut, but it’s drowned out by awe—by a desperate, clawing need. My curvy little Princess is being utterly ravished—taken apart by something that isn’t me—and it’s the most erotic thing I have ever witnessed.
“Oh, why won’t they stop?” she gasps, tears of frustration and ecstasy tracking down her cheeks. “This is so…so embarrassing. They need to stop!”
But her body betrays her words. She’s riding the vine, meeting each thrust, her back bowed, her breasts offered shamelessly to the sucking flowers.
“Please, Valen, I can’t… I’m going to…going to come!”
“Maybe that’s what they want,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse. “They want to make you come.”
“But I can’t…I shouldn’t…” she pants.
“Let go,” I command, my voice rough. I reach out, not to pull the vines away—I don’t even know if I could—but to cup her jaw, forcing her wild eyes to meet mine. “Stop fighting it, Irena. Just feel it. Don’t come for them—come for me. Let me see you—let me watch you coming.”
My permission, or perhaps the raw hunger in my gaze, seems to shatter her last vestige of control. Her mouth opens in a silent moan as pleasure overwhelms her.
It’s clearly not a single wave but a relentless series of convulsions that wrack her entire frame. Her thighs flex and I know her inner muscles are clamping down on the fucking vine, milking it, as the flowers on her nipples pulse in time with her contractions.
The soft, helpless sounds she makes seem to go straight to my cock, which feels like it’s going to fucking burst. I’ve never seen anything so erotic in my whole fucking life.
I watch every second. Watch the way she moans and writhes…the way her full breasts heave. I watch the vine continue to pump into her, drawing out her orgasm until she’s sobbing with pleasure and clearly oversensitive, trying to weakly push it away.