Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
And I return his need and his hunger. I want him to feel better. If I can do anything, if I can distract him from this pain for a little while, I want to give that to him.
But I also want it for myself.
There’s a greed in me now. I never knew I could want so much. I’ve never had this much before and never thought there’d be more.
With Stellan, it’s like whatever I want is endless and bottomless.
He tears off my robe. Lifts my little cut-off shirt to cup my breasts. He drags me up onto the counter, and the spilled whiskey soaks into my panties. He snarls, kissing my chest, sucking and biting my nipples. I squeeze his hair as he goes down, tugging at my panties.
“You smell like honey,” he mumbles, licking the top of my slit. He tosses my panties on the floor. “You taste like alcohol.”
“You spilled some.”
He licks the counter between my legs then brings his tongue up along my folds. It tingles more than usual. I moan, spreading my legs wider as his tongue licks and sucks me. He grabs a glass as he does it and shoves it against my mouth, making me drink. I slurp some down, spilling more between my breasts. He moves up and licks it clean before tonguing my pussy again.
It feels so good I could scream. His dominant hands keep me pinned in place, lapping and sucking, driving me wild. His fingers coat themselves in whiskey, and he slides them deep into my pussy. He kisses me, finger-fucking me deep, and when he’s done, he shoves his fingers in my mouth.
“Suck them clean,” he commands. I do it, sloppily, tasting pussy and peat. He grips my hair in one fist, taking it all into a tail, pulling my head back so he can nibble at my throat. “That’s such a good girl. You know, I like this needy, submissive, eager little slut you’ve turned into.”
I gasp in surprise at his language. “What did you call me?”
“I called you a slut.” He tightens his grip on my hair. “You are a soaking wet slut, Kira. You’re my slut. Your body is mine and your pussy is mine, and I’ll fill you to the fucking brim until you scream.”
Oh, shit.
I’ve never been more aroused in my life. He pulls back, taking off his pants. I help him with shaking fingers. The instant his cock is free, he drags it down my slit, smearing my wetness all over his shaft, before sinking himself deep inside.
I wrap my legs around his waist with a throaty gasp.
His eyes are dark and just as needy as mine. He has to have this, just like I do. He fills me, stroking deeper, spreading me wide. Breaking me and rebuilding me all over again. I grind into him, feeling vulnerable, wanting him to smother me and ruin me. His mouth is eager, kissing me all over, as he fucks me on the kitchen counter, his cock driving in deep.
We fall into each other. There’s nothing else outside this room but his body and his taste. His tongue delves into my mouth and I whimper against him. He licks more whiskey off my tits, tonguing my nipples, sucking them hard as I arch and ache, grinding my clit as he fucks me deeper. My eyes roll back as my body tenses. He grips my hips and leans forward, tongue rolling along the shell of my ear as his low voice rumbles through my spine.
“Break for me, wife. Shatter for me. I need to see your pretty face while you come.”
I finally crumble. I lean forward and his cock hits the right angle and I’m done. I break all over him, moaning and whimpering his name as he thrusts into me again and again, growling his bliss. I feel him come too, finishing in a spray and a torrent, growling as he does it.
I gasp, falling back onto my elbows. I’m damp with sweat and sticky from the whiskey. He stares at me, dick still buried in my pussy, eyes roaming my body. I press one hand against my breast and shove my fingers into my mouth, tasting sweetness.
“You should clean me off,” I say with a stupid grin.
He leans down and kisses me. Then he licks my neck.
“Not what I meant!”
He laughs lightly. I didn’t think he’d be capable of that tonight. But I can tell some of the burden’s gone. “Let’s go upstairs then.”
We shower together. I wash him and he washes me. By the time we’re in bed, I can tell some of the weight’s back on his shoulders. I pull him against me and hold him tight, my leg thrown over his hips.
It feels right. I don’t get why, but it does. I’ve been resisting him all this time, and for what?