Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
My thighs are slick with arousal. My brain is blissfully content. Quiet. Focused only on us.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “Are you nervous?”
I nod.
“Don’t be.” His hand slides down and cups me through my knickers. I gasp. “Let me make this body sing for me. Mine now, yeah? Every fuckin’ sound you make belongs to me.” And when I let myself go, relaxing into him, he makes a deep, masculine sound of approval. “That’s my good girl. That’s it, love. I’ll take my time until you’re ready and panting for me. We have all night.”
My body turns pliant and warm under his touch. My breasts feel heavy, aching.
The pad of his thumb grazes one nipple. His mouth closes over the other, the flat of his tongue lapping at the peak.
My body arches on instinct. I let out a soft gasp, needing pressure, needing something.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my skin. “Let me hear you.”
The scent of our bodies and arousal fills the air around us. It’s intoxicating. When he releases my nipples to kiss my cheek, I pull his body close to mine and stroke his chest, my thumbs skating over his nipples too.
“My fuckin’ god.” He releases a short growl of approval. His hardened cock throbs against my thigh. “Christ, you're perfect. Mine. Say it—tell me you're mine while I'm touchin' what belongs to me.”
“I’m yours.”
“Jesus, love, I love it when you touch me. You're gonna kill me, but I'll die a happy man buried between these thighs.” His voice is strained, barely controlled.
He claims my mouth again, before his hand wraps around my arse and pulls me to him until we’re flush. The hard length of him presses against my core, only thin lace separating us.
Oh god. I love the feel of his hand on my arse. The possessive grip. The way he manhandles me like I’m his to do with as he pleases.
He hooks his fingers in my knickers, then drags them down my legs and tosses them aside.
I’m completely naked, exposed, and vulnerable.
He strips off his trousers and boxers, and his cock springs free—thick and heavy, flushed dark at the tip. A bead of moisture glistens there.
My mouth goes dry. He’s bigger than I expected. Fear flickers through me.
“Hey.” He cups my face and makes me look at him. “We’ll go slow. I promise.”
“Okay.”
He spreads my thighs with his big hands and lowers himself to the floor. I realize what he’s going to do, and it feels too much, too intimate. I press them closer together when his eyes darken on me.
“I want to taste you, love. Can you trust me?”
“That’s too much,” I whisper.
“If you let me do this, it’ll be easier to take me,” he whispers back.
He settles between my thighs, spreading them wider. His eyes find mine and hold them. And I find my courage. I’m so eager to see what it feels like… what he feels like.
He kisses my inner thigh, then stretches the tip of his tongue to lick the slick arousal painted on the sensitive skin. Heat floods me. He presses his nose lower still, and I gasp. My mind again goes quiet, like my whole body is nothing but one big pulse of expectation.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Okay,” I whisper back. His responding growl makes my pussy clench with need. I spread my thighs, feeling powerful. I watch his eyes grow dark and heated as he breathes me in and releases a shuddering groan. My grip on the sheets relaxes, and instead, my fingers weave into his hair, anchoring me.
And then he drags the flat of his tongue to my throbbing, aching core. I cry out, my back arching off the bed, gripping his hair. Oh my god, this feels amazing. With every stroke of his tongue, heat blooms inside me, the pressure building. My resistance melts, and I whimper when he suckles my clit between his full lips.
His groan of approval tells me he likes this too.
“Right there,” I whisper when he strokes just right, and I whimper in need. I press the back of his head to keep him in place. “My god, don’t stop.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice muffled between my thighs. “So fucking sweet. So fucking perfect. Let yourself go, love. Come on my tongue.”
My body grows boneless, and I sigh—the delicious feeling of his tongue, his rough hands gripping my thighs, the way pleasure is building, growing—it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
My fear dissolves into trust, and I let myself just… melt. “That’s it, love,” he whispers, before he scratches the stubble on his chin across my thighs. “You’re doing so well. Come on my tongue, love.”
I cry out in pleasure when my orgasm suddenly claims me. Bliss floods me, my hips rise, and he holds my thighs and continues to lick me through every spasm of ecstasy.