Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I blink up into the sunshine above, so confused at the warring desires within me.
I want to tell him; I don’t want to tell him.
I trust him; I don’t trust him.
I want him to take control; I can’t help trying to wrestle it back from him.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I close my eyes as I feel his head descend between my thighs, breathing out long and low as his amazing tongue licks up my center. For all my secret machinations in the water, I didn’t get time to climax before he caught me. Even the pleasure I was experiencing when I touched myself felt furtive and guilty and not nearly as explosive as when he gives it to me.
It also means my sex is still swollen and ready to be amped back up as soon as his mouth is on me. My breathing becomes uneven as the pleasure rises, but I try not to vocalize anything because the warring logic in my head reasons: well, if an orgasm just happens to erupt before he realizes, then we can all just say, whoops, happy accident!
But he’s become annoyingly attuned to my body in such a short time. Even though I try hard not to give away that my rising pleasure is just seconds from peaking in the desperate release I want, he withdraws.
I can’t help the disappointed whine that escapes my throat. He chuckles, knowing exactly what he did.
“Tell me the things you keep hidden.”
My mouth stays stubbornly shut. In fact, I clamp it extra tight.
“Oh beloved,” he says low, and my body shudders, tears threatening. Now that I’m faced so directly with my hypocritical desires, I don’t know what to do.
He leans his head back down again, and I breathe out, thinking at least I might get the release of pleasure that, if not climax, is still very good and blessedly distracting.
Instead of his tongue, he just blows a warm stream of air across my pussy. I howl and squirm, but his hands hold my thighs steadfastly apart so I can’t even rub them together for friction. I look down my body at him hovering right above my sex. Then, as I watch, he extends his tongue and, with the very, very tip of it, gives the most glancing lick to my clit.
I shudder at the touch. And almost come. I swear.
“Please,” I beg. “Please let me come. Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Excellent,” he says, making sure to speak so that his breath washes over my sex. “Then tell me what you have been holding back.”
I squirm beneath his grip. “Anything except that.”
He withdraws his head from between my thighs, and I want to scream. Then he kisses my knee. Up my inner thigh. I shudder beneath his torturous attention, my pussy throbbing.
“Please lick me,” I beg. “Please suck my clit.”
He pauses. “What is clit?”
“The part you were just licking! Please, just give it a little more attention. Please, please. I need to come.”
“Wonderful. If you need to come, you know what to do. Open your sweet mouth and tell me all.”
My mouth clamps shut again.
And he continues his torturous ministrations.
Half an hour later, I’m all but vibrating with need. He’s kissed up my stomach and around my breasts without giving my nipples any more attention than his warm breath and a single quick swipe of his tongue that has had them hard and puckered ever since.
I finally cried petulantly, “Fine. I don’t even care about coming. I’m not even turned on anymore.”
At which point he dropped back to my sex and ate me out so voraciously I thought it had actually worked. I was two milliseconds away from climax when he retreated.
I did scream that time and thrashed in his hold.
Frustrated tears pour down my eyes.
“We can stop at any time,” comes his solemn voice. “You will not come, and I will not have your secrets.” The hands not holding my thighs and wrists gently caress down my body, pinching my puckered nipples lightly.
I twist in need, so many emotions warring.
“But you do not want me to stop, do you?”
I shake my head. No. No, I don’t want him to stop.
“While you give me control, you were the one who asked for this. Because, deep down, it was what you wanted. You want to tell me. In spite of how stubborn you are, you trust me.”
And then I feel his head at my sex again. He blows more warm air across my swollen clit. “Give in to what you want, beloved.”
I cry harder.
And finally, I break.
Hiccupping throughout, my truth finally spills. The whole thing. What I do for work. How my father and I were lured by my uncle to the huge cabin in the middle of nowhere. The ambush.
“I just fled,” I cry. “I abandoned him there, and I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead!”