Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Nobody else could have slammed his fingers into me the way he did. Three in hard, all the way in deep, and I was ready. Ready and begging. He curled them up, and ground hard until the spot was crying out, and I rode them, I rode and bucked and writhed like the filthy little slut I’d always been with him.
I held his face pressed tight, my fingers digging into his scalp without giving a shit for how hard my nails were grabbing at him, but he didn’t give a shit right back. He was grunting and panting and eating me up like I was his sacred fountain, and I loved it. I fucking loved it.
He sucked. Hard.
I bucked. Hard.
He fucked me rough and fast, his fingers spreading to stretch me, and I craved more, cried out for more, pleaded for it harder and harder.
He delivered.
One final wet lap and he swirled his tongue in just the right spot, flicking at my clit like a damn snake and the explosion was everything I’d been seeking and denied. It was everything that had always set me on fire, enough to have me a pool at his feet in every way possible.
My ears were ringing, and my screwed-closed eyes flashed with white, and my moans sounded distant but raw enough to have me shuddering.
Loud.
Needy.
Wild.
Lost to everything but the pure brilliance of my pussy losing control.
And I was done.
I was a shivering wreck. Heart thumping loud. My knickers were still on, and he ran his thumb right over the crotch once they’d settled back into position. Fuck, I was wet. Soaking wet.
So was he.
His face was as drenched as I was, my wetness glistening in his beard as he climbed back up and onto me, bearing his weight right down.
I reached up to brush his cheek, and he was smiling. Smiling dirty in just the same way I’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
He licked my open mouth all the way around my lips before he kissed me deep. I tasted myself on his tongue, but that wasn’t enough for him. He hooked his fingers in my cheeks and stretched them wide, and I knew what was coming. I was whimpering ready before he even did it.
He spat into my mouth, my own pussy juice undeniable, then plunged his fingers in so deep I retched.
“Suck,” he said, and I did. I sucked his fingers while he licked my face, and I was already straining up at him, my clit already desperate for more. “I love making a filthy mess of you,” he whispered, and pulled his fingers free to smear the pitiful remnants of my lipstick right across my cheeks, and with that I was lost all over again, his to do whatever the hell he wanted with.
Just like always.
His grin was toxic beauty as he pressed his forehead to mine. His nose was its usual pressure, his lips their usual puffiness after eating me up so hard, and I loved it.
Damn my own stupidity, but I loved it.
“Nice to see you after all these years,” he said, and he was laughing.
Part of me hated how I was laughing back, but I couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want it to stop. The euphoria was too instinctive. Too beautiful.
He collapsed on top of me, his laughter at my neck, his firm body pressed into mine.
“Such a filthy little slut,” he said with his mouth touching mine.
He bit my lip before pulling away and getting to his feet.
He was still fully suited and looking damn fine for it. His tie was still in position, his damp shirt still perfectly buttoned underneath, and I was a wreck with my tits bare and heaving, my dress still hitched up my waist while my thighs still trembled.
I despised myself and him along with it, but it was a distant whirlwind amongst the rest of my tattered senses, lost under that ridiculous high.
I watched him walk across the kitchen and reach a pack of cigarettes from a shelf. I watched the suck of his mouth as he lit up and took his first drag, his cheeks still glistening with my wetness, and I wanted one.
He knew me well enough to tell.
He was holding the pack out as I propped myself up on my elbows, and for the first time in years I accepted with a nod.
Seb’s face would be a picture of horror as I dropped myself to my feet and headed over to take a cigarette from my filthy destroyer. He’d curse and bluster and moan about my fitness, and insist I lapped up the mineral water and banish such travesties of mankind to the gutter.
I tugged my dress back up in some shitty attempt at modesty before I lit up, then coughed like an idiot before I’d even managed a decent breath.