Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
It doesn’t help that the water is dirty at first, though it’s not long before it’s running clear and the last reaches of Inmost have been washed away.
Not that he seems to have noticed. He lets out a guttural noise of want and steps into the shower stall. Suddenly, the space feels very small, his size all-consuming. His cock stands even more at attention, bobbing slightly as the water hits it. A fucking beautiful but never not intimidating sight, if I must say.
“Little bird,” he whispers to me, taking another step closer until I’m pressed back against the wall. “I’m not sure you know just how beautiful you are.”
My breath hitches at his words, words that threaten to unravel me, and I press my palms against the cold tiles of the wall in an attempt to keep myself upright.
Our bodies brush against each other as we maneuver in the confined space, our breaths mingling with the sound of steadily falling water droplets. I notice the way he looks at me, his eyes never leaving my skin as the water drips from my body. I feel his desire intensify, as if he’s absorbing every detail of me.
I do the same to him, watching as the rivers roll over the silver lines across his body, the way the water drips off the tip of his ever-growing cock.
I reach out and trail my fingers over the length of it, feeling its hot, pulsing rhythm against my palm. He lets out a low groan, his eyes closing in pleasure. I can’t help but feel empowered by his arousal, the way my touch ignites an uncontrollable response in him. Seeing him becoming undone by my touch is one of my favorite things, a true power I’ve always had, even before I found out I was part goddess.
With a sly smile, I reach down for the bar of soap, quickly tearing it from the plastic and lathering it in my hands before using it to trace delicate patterns on my skin, as if I’m creating art for him and I’m the canvas. My eyes never leave his as I touch myself, running the soap over my breasts, down my abdomen, between my thighs.
He steps closer, his cock rigid and pulsing in front of him, unable to resist the sight of my wet hands on my own body. I reach out again, this time running my fingers over the sensitive tip of his shaft, feeling his body tremble as his eyes roll back in pleasure.
“You don’t seem to care so much about food anymore,” he rasps.
“I guess I was craving something else instead,” I tell him, giving his cock a hard squeeze.
He lets out a deep groan, his hips bucking forward slightly in response.
I carefully drop to my knees, my eyes locked with his.
He lets out a ragged breath, and I can feel the hot pulse of want against my soap-slick palm as he nods for me to continue. I lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, letting my tongue trace the slit before dipping inside and tasting the salt of it. He groans loudly, the sound reverberating in the small space, his hands running through my wet hair as he pulls me closer to him.
I take him fully into my mouth, savoring the wet, soapy taste of his skin as I wrap my lips around his thick length. He gasps, his hand finding its way to the back of my head, guiding me in my exploration.
I suck and lick him, each movement calculated to send jolts of pleasure through his body, knowing exactly what I need to do to get the response I want. His hips buck again, his breathing becoming raspy, his fists tightening in my hair as he fights to maintain control.
“Wait,” he says gruffly, his chest heaving. “I don’t want to come yet, and I will if you keep doing that.”
I smile to myself and release him from my mouth, standing up and facing him once more. The desire in his eyes is molten with the need for release building between us.
“You’re always making me come twice,” I tease him. “Maybe it’s time I return the favor.”
He responds by grabbing my hips, lifting me up onto the slick tiles of the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking him against me, and with one powerful thrust, he enters me, filling me completely as I gasp at the sensation.
“Fuck,” I whisper, feeling so thoroughly full and complete.
So grounded.
In the chaotic turn our lives have taken, in the lost time and becoming a literal ghost in the only world I have ever known, having him inside me feels like the only thing holding me together.
He might know this too from the way he’s savoring me.
He begins to move inside me, slow and deliberate at first, as if lingering on the feeling of my body surrounding him. But soon, his rhythm quickens, deepens. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, and I cling to him desperately, my nails digging into his shoulders, holding on to him, like if I don’t, I might be lost and never be able to find my way back.