Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Ursa says nothing as she circles me slowly, but I can feel her gaze on my bare skin. I’m achingly aware of how lacking I must be. She’s lush and full of curves and soft in the very sexiest of ways. I’m a string bean by comparison, narrow hips and small breasts. I’ve never wanted another body as much as I do in the moment when she’s at my back.
At least until she finally comes to stand in front of me and I see the hunger in her eyes again. As if she can’t decide which part of me she wants to devour first. “You’re very beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” I blurt.
“I know.” She sips her wine slowly. “Sit on the couch. Spread your legs.”
I stumble to the couch and sit on the center cushion. She follows and perches on the heavy marble coffee table in front of me. I hesitate but finally spread my legs, inch by inch, until I can feel cool air against my heated flesh. It takes everything I have not to slam my knees shut as she studies me there just as thoroughly as she studied the rest of my body.
Another slow sip of wine. “You’re very wet, little Zurielle.”
“Zuri,” I whisper. When Ursa arches her eyebrows, I explain. “My friends call me Zuri.”
“We aren’t friends.” She says it almost kindly. “I’m going to fuck you until you come so many times, it’s my face you see when you think of god. But we are not, and never will be, friends.”
I can’t quite catch my breath. “Oh.”
“I’m going to touch you now.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer before she coasts one hand up my thigh to use her thumb to part my pussy. “So wet and pink. I think you like being on your knees.”
“I—”
“You will not speak until I give you permission.” The sentence comes out absently as she keeps up that slow exploration with her fingers, circling her thumb gently over my clit. “You will not speak, and you will not move, and you will not come. Do you understand me, little Zurielle?” Her gaze flicks to my face. “You may answer.”
Now I truly am gasping. How can she strike to the very heart of my dark desires with a few short words? “Yes, Mistress.”
Another sip of her wine and she sets the glass aside. “The next time you speak, it will be to request my permission to come.” She lightly drags her fingers up my thighs to my hips and then yanks me to the very edge of the couch, my legs on either side of hers. “Better.” She takes my hands and guides them to the backs of my thighs, pulling my legs up and out, exposing me in a way there’s no hiding from. “Hold just like this.”
It’s uncomfortable and embarrassing, and I forget both those things as she resumes touching my pussy. Slow strokes of her fingers as she explores me, circling my clit, tracing my entrance, dipping down to press her thumb against my ass. I jump at the last, but then quiver as I force myself to hold still. Ursa doesn’t press inside, but she watches me, cataloguing every reaction.
She presses one hand to my lower stomach, holding me perfectly still as she goes back to playing with my clit. “Look how eager you are. You sold yourself for love, and you’re so wet for my fingers, you’re practically shaking with the need for more.” She licks her lips. “Would you beg for my mouth, I wonder?”
Humiliation and shame lance me, but somehow they combine to a greater desire. I am suddenly sure I will beg for her mouth. I press my lips together hard, determined to obey and keep the words inside. She’s wrong. She must be wrong. I love Alaric. My body might be confused right now beneath her expert touch, but it’s just sex. It doesn’t mean anything.
It can’t mean anything.
“So unfaithful, little Zurielle. Such a little slut.” She smiles slowly. “Would you like my mouth? You may answer.” I open my mouth to deny her, but she cuts me off before I can spill the lie. “If you’re going to speak, you do it honestly.”
I don’t want to. We’re barely an hour into the seven days and I’m already dancing across lines I thought were set in stone. I had thought to merely endure, but Ursa is forcing me to be an active participant, forcing my betrayal with both word and action.
All the same, I can’t lie.
“Yes.” I sound like another person, someone needy and desperate, someone on the verge of breaking. “Yes, Mistress, I want your mouth.”
“So eager,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping back to where she hasn’t stopped stroking me. “I suppose a little appetizer won’t hurt.”
The words don’t make sense, but then they don’t matter at all as she dips down, her locs sliding against my thighs, to drag her tongue over me. Her mouth on the most private part of me is slippery and sinful, and I dig my fingers into my thighs to keep from reaching for her. It feels so good, so much better than I could have dreamed. She licks my pussy like I’m her favorite flavor of candy, like she wants to taste every inch of me.