Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I can’t help staring at her body’s perfection before taking her by the hand and helping her into the tub, now full of fragrant bubbles. “Did I do a good job?” Nix sits on the edge of the tub, close to her head, while I sit near her knees.
“Perfect,” she tells him with a grin, resting the back of her neck against a folded towel, releasing a deep sigh as her eyes close. I couldn’t be happier to see her letting go, allowing herself to feel good. She’s done too much worrying lately, on top of everything else that plagues her.
We don’t have to talk about it, Nix and me. It’s like we’re moving in sync, connected by some psychic bond that guides us. When I run a hand over her knee, poking out from a mountain of bubbles, he strokes her hair back from her face with a gentle touch. I didn’t know he could be that gentle.
“That’s nice.” Slowly, her legs part, her breathing going deeper while Nix massages her temples, and I explore her smooth, slick skin. I could touch her forever and never get tired of it—I’m addicted to her, plain and simple. Not just to her body, but to her spirit.
Right now, though, it’s her body I’m most concerned with, the soft sighs that now accompany my slow, careful stroking of her inner thighs. Her chest and neck are starting to flush, and I don’t think it’s just from the warmth of the water.
Nix moves from rubbing her temples to massaging her shoulders. “That feels so good,” she moans, and my cock might snap in half if this keeps up. The soft sounds of her pleasure slowly grow louder, and louder still once I up the ante by stroking her bald, plump lips under the water’s surface.
“You like that?” Nix whispers, and I watch as his fingers press into her flesh until she moans again “That’s right. Just relax. Just feel it.”
“Don’t stop,” she begs, her lips parting so she can breathe, so she can moan.
“Not until you’re a good girl and come for us,” I whisper. Her hips move when I start running a finger along the length of her slit, teasing without touching her clit. Not yet. Not until she begs me to. I want to see how far we can take her. How much pleasure we can make her feel.
“You like when he touches you that way?” Nix’s hands slide over her chest, grazing the tight nipples that peek out over the surface of the water.
Her back arches in a sharp gasp that fills the air. “Oh, god,” she moans, and her hips move faster. Nothing in the world matters more than this, right here, this moment. Building her up, working her body.
“That’s right,” I tell her. “Let it out. Show us how good you feel.”
“I do,” she rasps, then moans when Nix pinches her nipple and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.
That’s when I decide to drag a finger through her folds, stopping at her clit and moving in slow circles over it. Her eyes fly open, her moans echoing in the room. “Oh… Oh, yes… Yes,” she pants.
“What do you want him to do next?” Nix is breathing faster, grunting softly. His tongue glides over the curve of her ear until she moans again.
“I…” She shakes her head, whimpering.
“I won’t know what to do unless you tell me,” I warn, easing up on the pressure against her engorged clit, knowing it’ll drive her wild with frustration when I do. She needs to know she can control this. All we want is to give her pleasure.
Her frustrated groan makes us both chuckle darkly. She’s ours. She’ll always be ours.
“I want you to… fuck me with your fingers.” Moving her hips, she whimpers, “Please.”
“Like this?” I work one finger inside, then a second, still thumbing her clit as I massage her slick walls. She’s whimpering, almost sobbing, the water splashing with every desperate jerk of her hips.
“Yes, just like that.” Her voice is tight, strained. “I love it. Yes, don’t stop.”
“How’s that pussy feel?” Nix asks me.
“Getting tighter,” I announce, working faster, going deeper as my knuckles hit her swollen flesh with every stroke. Her cries rise in pitch and desperation until she’s squealing, almost shrieking, humping my hand until finally, she clenches tight and goes still with her mouth hanging open, her eyes squeezed shut.
And then it breaks with an ecstatic cry before she sinks back into the tub, panting weakly. I still feel her pulsing around me, fluttering in the aftermath, and I help her ride it out as long as I can before she relaxes with a happy sigh.
I don’t know why, but there’s a sense of pride that rears up in me as I look down at her, crashed out in the tub, dizzy and breathless after what we made her do. “Wow,” she sighs, her lips curving in a satisfied smile.