Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Styx growled under his breath as my fingers unbuttoned the fly, my hand grazing over the denim and touching his hard length. “Fuck,” Styx hissed as I pulled the jeans, inch by inch, down his legs. His thick thighs flexed under my touch. My mouth lay just before his hardness, my breath ghosting over the flesh yet never touching.
“M-Mae,” he stuttered and guided my head closer to him as he stepped from his jeans and kicked them to the side. I glanced up and watched his eyes burn with need. Laying my hands on his thighs, I flicked out my tongue and licked along his length. Styx’s head snapped back and his eyes closed as I moved away, only to wrap my lips around the top and move, painstakingly slowly, down his full length. “Fuck,” he called out as both of his hands steadied my head. I moaned and closed my eyes, savoring the taste of him filling my mouth, the heat of his flesh, and the touch of his hands in my hair.
I kept my rhythm slow and steady. I wanted him to see how much I adored him, loved him . . . worshipped him. And when I looked up and saw him watching me, a hand sliding to my neck so his finger could stroke my cheek so softly, I knew he understood that. And as he pulled back, his length slipping from my mouth, and gently hooked his arms under my own, bringing me to my feet, I knew he loved me too.
I just could not work out what was wrong.
He lifted me into his arms, carried me to our bed, and laid me down. Crawling over me, carefully avoiding my stomach, he pushed the straps of my slip off my shoulders and pulled the material down over my breasts. I moaned when his head dipped and his tongue lapped at the hard bud. But Styx did not stop—he kept tasting and kissing, moving to explore the rest of my swollen flesh.
“Styx,” I whispered and arched my back as he pulled the slip down the rest of my body until it was a discarded silk heap at the bottom of the bed. Styx’s mouth pressed against my foot then peppered a trail of kisses up my leg until it reached my core. Carefully parting my legs, he placed his wide shoulders between them and licked along my folds. My eyes closed as his fingers entered me and began to move. “Styx,” I whispered.
He moved faster, more determinedly, until his fingers rubbed the spot inside me that always made me fall apart. Once, twice, until my body clenched, my back arched, and a long moan sailed from my mouth as pleasure that only Styx could give me took me in its grip. Trust and love and safety. And light. Light so bright and pleasure so strong that I did not feel Styx move beside me until his lips met mine and his tongue pushed into my mouth. I lifted my chest until my skin met his. Warm against hot, hard against soft, and rough against smooth.
I placed my hands on his shoulders, rolled him onto his back, and straddled his waist. My hands slipped down to his chest. Styx’s eyes were dilated with need. Then his lips hooked into a smirk as his hands landed on my stomach. I knew Styx loved me, had known it since I had found him again. But since I had been pregnant, there was more in his gaze. A new form of love, more intense and sacred. Deeper and more connected. A part of him now lived within me, the beating heart of our love’s creation inside my body.
Lifting my hips, I placed Styx at my entrance, and slowly, without breaking eye contact, lowered myself until I was full of him. Styx inside me in both flesh and soul.
“Mae,” he whispered and moved his hands to grip my hips. I began to move, rocking slowly, feeling every inch of him within me. I gradually built up speed, leaning forward until my lips were kissing Styx’s. I drew back, keeping my face no more than an inch from his. I laid my hands on his cheeks and felt his hips begin to move faster, thrusting up to meet my movements. I searched his eyes, hoping to find the answers to what worried him. But all I saw was his love for me, silently loud and uncensored. Styx struggled with words, but he did not need them to show me he cared. I saw it. I felt it within him every day.
“I love you,” I whispered as his thrusts began to build in speed. Styx’s lips parted and I saw him fighting to return the sentiment. And I saw the pain in his eyes, the frustration when those words would not come forth. “I know,” I whispered and kissed his cheek. “I know you love me too.”