Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
But when she touched her tongue to his flesh, he heard an odd sound in the room, like a gentle breeze moving through leaves.
And he lost his mind.
True had no memory of the loss of his boots, his socks, his trousers. He did not know if he removed them, or she, or the both of them.
But he would never forget the first time he drew her nipple into his mouth, feeding it there with a sweep of his tongue, and the sound of her whimper, the pucker of her hardening flesh against his lips, when he suckled it deep.
He would also never forget doing much the same to the other.
He would further not forget her nails raking through his scalp and down his back.
And he would not forget the whisper of her lips on his throat or the moist trails of her tongue along the boxes of his stomach.
He would not forget the smell of her sex tingeing the air.
And he definitely would not forget the cast of the room turning green before he closed his eyes when he first tasted the nectar between her legs.
She writhed against him as he took her with his mouth, thus he wrapped her legs about his shoulders so she would be able to find purchase.
And he drank from her.
Deeper and deeper, until her movements grew needy and her noises desperate, her fingers that were fisted in his hair alternately pushing him closer and tugging him away.
He wanted to bring her to climax in that manner first, to assure it and to prepare her to take him, but the pushing at his head became tugging as she breathed, “No…I can’t…I don’t want to be…not before you, without you. True,” a fierce tug, “come inside.”
He should have fought it, but in that moment, the want in her tone, the desire in his body, he could not.
He swept over her, hazily taking in the beauty of desire softening her features, heating her amber eyes, and he covered her, careful of his weight even if she’d assured him her wound was healed.
“I am not small,” he had the presence of mind to murmur.
“I noticed and I don’t care.” She had strength in her tone, and in her fingers, which were clenching greedily at his arse.
Gods, his beautiful wife.
“Farah—”
“Make me yours.”
He dipped closer, gliding a finger along her hairline, it coming to him that they should slow this, be present in it, not lost to it.
“Farah—”
“I want to belong to you,” she whispered, and he grew still. “I yearn to belong to you, True. Please, il mia vita, it seems I’ve waited eternity. Please, my husband, make…me…yours.”
This was her wish, and his, he would give it to her.
To them.
True took hold of his shaft, found her with the head, and slowly, he eased inside.
He watched as her eyes closed in ecstasy when they became one.
And his body locked as her slick heat tightened around him.
She rounded him with all four limbs.
He stared at his wife, his queen, now his lover, just his love, her hair all over the pillows, vines of ivy creeping through the locks, and he did not notice this oddity.
He moved inside Farah, finally making her his, finally giving himself to her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he grunted, struggling not to climax, she felt that good, smelled that good, her pleasure looked that good.
She tightened further around him…everywhere.
He gritted his teeth and moved faster.
“Gods, yes,” she whimpered, her hips finding his rhythm.
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice guttural.
He watched as she forced her eyes open.
“You’re mine,” he declared, the movement of his hips slipping out of his control, thus they hammered into hers, fast and hard.
“I’m yours,” she gasped.
“You’re mine forever, Farah,” he growled.
Her nails dug in at the base of his spine and the back of his neck.
He gloried in the bite of her claiming.
“I’m yours,” she whimpered, her movements frantic, her sex grasping, clutching, seizing.
Gods.
“And I am yours,” he told her.
Her dazed eyes focused on him and they grew wet.
“You are mine.” Her voice sounded like it would break.
“Forever, my beloved,” he said.
“Forever, True,” she whispered, her arm wrapping all the way around, her fingers holding tight to his side, her hand at his neck cupping it.
He bent to kiss her as he shifted a hand over her hip, between them, over her belly and down.
He pressed at her nub as he thrust deep inside and slid his tongue in to claim her mouth.
His wife instantly climaxed against it.
Giving her that, True let himself go, continuing with finger and tongue to offer her more, take her higher, make it last as long as he could, until he had to clamp on her hip to hold her steady as his world went a dense green, his balls drew up and he shot inside his bride.
Glorious.
He had his face in her neck and felt her fingers trailing the small of his back, just above his arse, when the climax released him.