Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“It’s what? Where do you hurt?” Bright asked, his confusion evident as he scanned her body.
“It’s her soft little pussy,” Burn growled, answering for her, his voice thick and knowing. His eyes had moved from her breasts and were now fixed on the junction of her thighs. “She’s in need, Bright—just smell her scent. It’s fucking dripping from her,” he added.
“In need, what do you mean?” Noelle asked, her voice small, looking between their intense faces with uncertainty.
“I mean, your little pussy is all hot and wet and needs attention. Doesn’t she?” Burn demanded.
“I…um…” Utterly embarrassed, Noelle tried to pull her knees together, to hide the undeniable evidence of her desire from their penetrating gazes.
“No, sweetheart, let us see you,” Bright said gently, but with a firm, unyielding sternness that brooked no argument. His hand, so much larger and warmer than her own, settled on her knee.
Nibbling her lower lip, her entire body trembling with a mixture of shame and raw anticipation, Noelle allowed him to gently part her legs—to spread her thighs wide open, exposing her most intimate self to their view.
“Gods,” Burn swore, his deep voice hoarse with lust. “Look how fucking wet she is! She’s gleaming.”
Bright’s gaze was equally rapt, though more clinical.
“And how swollen,” he noted, a frown of concern creasing his brow. “Didn’t that orange dwarf say that you might become hyper-sexual if you skipped the second fertility treatment?” he asked Noelle.
She shook her head, the memory hazy through the fog of pleasure and need.
“I think so. But what does that mean?”
“It means your soft little pussy needs to be tended to—like we tended to you last night,” Burn growled, his voice dropping to a possessive rumble. “You need to come, baby. You need it bad.”
He reached out, his calloused fingers aiming to cup her mound, but the moment his rough skin made contact, she moaned and jerked away violently. The sensation was simply too abrasive—too much.
“Sorry,” she gasped, curling in on herself slightly. “But your hand is too rough. I’m just so… so sensitive there right now.”
A slow, understanding smile spread across Bright’s face.
“You heard her, Burn—hands are too rough.” There was a new light in his hazel-green eyes then, a dark, knowing gleam she didn’t understand, but she saw the exact same hungry understanding reflected in the midnight blue of Burn’s gaze.
Her breath hitched.
“What… what does that mean?” she asked, her voice a breathless whisper, her heart thundering in her ears.
“It means we’ll have to help you come another way,” Burn growled, the promise in his tone making her stomach flutter.
Bright leaned forward, his expression one of smoldering intent.
“My lady,” he said, his voice a soft, devastating caress. “We’re going to have to taste you.”
46
BURN
Burn’s breath caught in his throat—a sharp, involuntary hitch as he took in the sight before him. The woman he and Bright both cared for—the woman who had somehow become the center of their fucked-up universe—was laid out between them like a goddamn feast, and he was starving. The thin, crimson silk of her nightgown was pulled up, putting her full, heavy breasts on display, the nipples still wet and tight from their mouths. But it was what was below that held his gaze captive.
Her thick, luscious thighs were spread wide for them, soft and creamy brown against the white sheets—an open invitation that made his cock pulse with a painful, immediate need. And between them… fuck. Her pussy was berry-dark and glistening with need.
The plump, swollen outer lips were flushed and parted slightly to reveal her inner slit, gleaming with her sweet, slippery honey. Her tight little clit looked like a pearl, begging for attention and Burn could smell the rich, ripe scent of her female arousal—an aphrodisiac that went straight to his head, clouding his thoughts with a single, primal imperative—he had to taste her.
He wanted to bury his face between her thighs—wanted to devour her, to drink down every last drop of her juices and hear her moan his name until she was hoarse. But through the red haze of lust, a sliver of reason remained. She was sensitive—overwhelmed and over-stimulated. He had to go slow—had to be careful with her, even if every instinct inside shouted at him to take, to claim, to own.
He dragged his gaze from the hypnotic sight of her spread pussy and looked up at Bright, a silent question in his eyes. The Light Twin, his face a mask of shared hunger and need, gave a slight, understanding nod.
“You can go first,” Bright said, his voice rough with desire, as though he’d read the desperate need burning in Burn’s soul. “Just save some honey for me.”
A hoarse, grateful sound rumbled in Burn’s chest.
“Will do,” he promised. He shifted his focus back to Noelle, whose wide, uncertain eyes were fixed on him. “Just help her relax and let me in.”