Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Cyderial, who was doing this to me. He was the male rapt in his work of tonguing my slit. It was his blond hair gripped in my fist. His mouth I rode in desperation for God only knew what.
Nothing twisted my senses outside an urgent need to know higher pleasure.
And there was no way I could stop my rolling hips or deny that my body craved things beyond my understanding.
Lapping me down with a snarl of delight, he sucked, tongued, and kissed every vibrant-purple hidden secret between my legs.
And I was at a loss to stop myself, hardly knowing who I would be when this was over.
I should have said no when he’d offered a kiss in place of subjugation. Life would have been so much simpler if I could have been drunk on male tricks, lacking accountability for my fervor to accept such treatment from so horrible a man.
And he knew. I saw his eyes change the moment realization dawned on me.
Victory was his.
This was a far greater win in his war against my resistance.
Because the fire was still building, and his cruel mouth had been my choice. Despite it all, a building climax of beautiful energy gathered in my belly, my little opening sucking at his long, probing tongue.
It was then I began to weep.
Warm breath over my sex, he retracted his tongue at the sound of my tears. “Do you want me to stop?”
I would die if he stopped. That bridge had been burned, and the fire in my guts was nowhere near satiated. Neither could I be that much of a coward and live with myself. I had agreed, I had lost ground, but he still did not have permission to knot me. “No.”
A soft kiss was placed on my inner thigh, the man nuzzling fondly against me.
I wanted this to be over so I might crawl away and lick my wounds. “Finish your kiss!”
His lips met my slit, and kiss me he did. Vibrating now with the pitch of his thrumming, that tongue danced where it would.
Thumbs came to spread me, pulling me gently open, moving in small circles over singing nerves.
When the tip of his tongue flicked something hungry inside of me, my internal sleeve grabbed him tight and pulled against that rough muscle.
He teased at that internal rippling clench enough to trigger an explosion of brightness I felt all the way down to my toes. The surging pleasure intensified by the sounds he ricocheted through me in his own passionate response.
Lapping tongue, determined fingers, and the sting of teeth sent me into shuddering mania.
Reason failed me completely as I arched and took every bit of zealot-like worship he might lay upon me.
Until the surge finally blasted apart and left me sagging and struggling for breath.
Ass hanging off the chair, my legs useless and still shaking. If not for the hands that held my hips and the strength of the man who had just broken me, I would have been a sorry puddle on the floor.
Whining like a wounded animal on each exhale, I stared at his fancy filigreed ceiling and felt the heat somewhat subside.
Just a kiss, he had said.
Drawn like a ragdoll into his arms, I finally earned a true kiss. His mouth landed on mine, the taste of my slippery fluids pressed between my lips by a greedy, devious tongue.
18
He kissed me to his hearts’ content, my undulating core grasping at nothing and aching despite my previous mind-shattering climax.
I felt better and so much worse. The pleasure had been very real; my body had luxuriated in it. But as cooling as it had been, it was not enough. Remaining flutters of pleasure began to ebb into consequential aches, warning me of the inevitable.
The kiss had only bought me a small amount of time. Whatever was within me was starved to be properly fed.
The wriggling beast in his trousers still craved as well. I could feel it move against my thigh where I was cradled on his lap. Spent and needy as I was, he had the perfect opportunity to press his advantage. He could have easily taken me right there on the floor.
Again.
I would not have fought back.
But he didn’t.
“Absolutely delicious.” Whispering praise against my lips, Cyderial added, “You have the most beautiful cunt.”
A cunt. A hungry little mouth between my legs closing tight around nothing, swollen with want, and warning me with zings of discomfort that it was only a matter of time before heat would return to force me to submit fully.
Reverently, he laid a final, lingering kiss on my lips, as if he were relishing his greatest treasure.
I did not share his triumph.
I should have been at school, in weapons training or listening to a lecture on physics. No, that wasn’t right. A stranger was supposed to ruin me so I might wander at will into the fog.