Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Story?” she asks.
“Oh, aye, I love this,” Megan says, holding up Wee Gaelic Fairy Tales for Wee Folk. She flips through and laughs out loud. “Fancy that? Children’s version of Conall Yellowclaw and The Story of Deirdre.”
I smile to myself. “Fancy that.”
I take the book, open it up, and begin to read. Breena laughs and giggles, snuggling closer into me and Megan as I read. My heart is full, as the two of them hang on my every word. We read one story, then the next, and I’m finding myself easing into the simplicity of this moment, this time together, unencumbered with the expectations of the Clan or of doing a relationship right. This, right here, while the moon rises over the harbor and the dishwasher hums pleasantly in the background, is the stuff of dreams. I don’t have high aspirations of grandeur or wealth. As a member of the Clan, I’m secured for life. But this right here is what I’ll fight for.
I place the book down and look over at the girls. Breena’s head’s on Megan’s chest, and Megan’s hand rests on Breena’s shoulder, holding her. My heart squeezes, and a lump rises in my throat at the very sight. They’re both fast asleep, the cares of the world erased from Megan’s lovely features, Breena at total peace in slumber.
I bend and take Breena out of Megan’s arms. Megan doesn’t wake. I hold Breena to me. Her head rests on my shoulder, but she’s deadweight in my arms. Completely exhausted. Quietly, I tiptoe to her bedroom where I situate her in bed and pull the blankets up over her. I shut the door behind me.
When I return to Megan, I grin. She slumped straight over onto the couch, sprawled out in exhaustion, the sofa cushions pressed up to her cheek. I kneel beside her and kiss her shoulder. She doesn’t move. Next, I kiss down the length of her arm to her fingers. I lift her fingers to my mouth and gently suck, but she doesn’t even stir.
I kiss her belly and lower still, to the very top of her thighs. Still, she doesn’t budge. I tug down her pajama bottoms and glide them down her hips. She squirms a little, but her eyes are shut tight. Watching her, I kiss the very top of her sex. Her breathing shifts. I grin against her naked skin. I doubt she’s asleep now.
My eyes on hers, I gently drag my tongue along her seam, and she lets out a moan. I position myself better, tug her pajama bottoms totally down, then return to her soft, sweet pussy eagerly. She barely moves as I lick and suckle, but I can feel her body changing. She’s gone from being at rest to being excited, as her body vibrates with need. Still, she keeps her eyes closed and doesn’t say a word.
“Good girl,” I say against her thigh, kissing a little freckled spot just there. “Open your legs wider, love.”
She obeys. I cup her arse in my hands, raising her pussy to my mouth, then gently glide my thumb along her arsehole. Her breath hitches as I tease her clit with the top of my tongue, pushing her limits just before I slide my fingers into her hot, tight channel. She whimpers and spreads her leg wider. I pump my fingers as I lick and suckle, until her back arches and she gasps for breath.
“Come, love,” I whisper to her. “Take it. Chase it.”
I return to her pussy and continue until she’s spasming with pleasure and moaning, and Jesus if it isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, gliding my fingers in and out as I work her through her climax. Her hands are in my hair, her knees pressed up to my face, owning this. I ease her through her pleasure, then bring her back down again, giving one final, lazy swipe of my tongue through her folds. She shivers and opens one eye.
“What the bloody hell was that?” she whispers. “My God, you’re good at that.”
I smile at her. “Fucking rewarding, you coming on my tongue like that. You’re so alive with eagerness, I could do that every fucking day.”
She grins. “I’d agree to that.”
I give her a teasing swat. “Would you, now?” I ask. “And how would you earn it?”
“Any way you wish, sir.”
I sit on the couch beside her and draw her onto my lap. “You’re exhausted. You sure you’re up for more?”
“Are you kidding? I’ll sleep for fucking days after this.”
I take her hand and lead her to my bedroom, my mind occupied with every damn thing I could do to her. She’s awake now, though she’s walking on trembling legs.
“On the bed,” I tell her, giving her arse a good, hard slap. My mouth is dry with the thought of what I want to do to her, how I want to use her, and how she’s eager for just this. “And strip.”