Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Alaric’s hands were impatient, too, moving down my sides to grab the hem of my tank top, and pulling.
I had to release his ass to raise my hands above my head, letting him free me of the thin material that somehow felt oppressive with my flushed, overly sensitive skin.
Alaric’s gaze moved down, taking me in, then tipping his head back, and closing his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath.
Trying to find some self-control.
I didn’t want him to be in command of himself, though.
There was nothing resembling control in me right then.
I wanted him as immersed in it as I was.
Reaching out, I grabbed his hand, lifting it, and placing it over my breast. I watched as his gaze snapped open, his eyes flickering flames as his hand closed around my breast, squeezing almost to the point of pain before starting to roll my nipple with his forefinger and thumb.
I arched backward, giving him more access, and his other hand rose to compound the sensations, leaving me arching into his touch.
Then his head was dipping down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking, circling, grazing, before moving across my chest.
“Alaric,” I moaned, hips rocking restlessly, the need for release becoming an ache that refused to go away. “Please,” I begged as he shifted between my breasts, his hair tickling my skin as he tipped his head up to look at me.
“Please what?” he asked, voice rough, as he moved to straighten. “Please do this?” he went on, pressing a hand against my cleft over my shorts, dragging a whimper out of me at the needed contact.
“Yes,” I whimpered, rocking against his hand when he kept it stubbornly still.
“Or this?” he asked, and his hand was suddenly inside my panties, touching me without the barrier, making my thighs shake at the contact. “Or maybe this,” he went on, slipping his fingers inside of me.
“Yes,” I cried out, grabbing his wrist, fingernails digging in, refusing to let him move away if he had any plans of doing so.
He didn’t seem to, though, as his fingers started to thrust, giving me the friction I was aching for, driving me up.
“Or maybe this…” he said, his fingers sliding out of me.
“No,” I gasped, trying to grab for him, but he was too fast, too strong, wiggling out of my grip, and reaching for my hips. His fingers sank in, dragging me off of the counter and onto shaky legs.
He grabbed the waistbands of my shorts and panties, lowering them down until the material pooled at my feet.
“Or this?” he asked, watching me as he lowered himself down.
As he went, he grabbed my knee, lifting it up, and spreading it out, then slipping it over his shoulder as he buried his face between my legs.
One of my arms back out, bracing myself with the counter. The other went down, sinking into his hair, holding him against me as his tongue moved up my cleft.
This time, though, he wasn’t teasing me.
His tongue went right for the sensitive point, and started working it ruthlessly.
It was maybe only seconds before I was moaning and rocking against his tongue, until the pleasure was a heavy pressure in my lower stomach.
“No. No, please,” I cried when he pulled away just when the orgasm seemed about to crest.
“Love it when you beg, baby,” he murmured, but he was already reaching for me, turning me to face the mirror.
“You need to see what I’m seeing,” he said, running a hand over my upper chest that felt heated.
I wasn’t completely blind without my glasses that were set on the counter since I’d washed my face, but I was glad for a little softness around the edges, feeling uncomfortable staring at myself looking like I did then. Flushed. Heavy-lidded. Overcome with desire.
“Look how fucking beautiful,” he said as his hand moved down, grazing over my breast and belly, before sliding between my legs, and teasing me again.
As the need overtook me, my eyes were kinder as I did start to see myself through a less critical lens.
But then his hand was moving away, dragging a grumble out of me that had a sexy little smirk toying with his face. He raised his hand, and I watched as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting me with a low rumble that vibrated from him and through my body.
He reached to swipe my hair away from my neck, pressing his lips there instead, his gaze still holding mine in the mirror as he stepped a little closer, his desire pressing against my ass until I went up on my tiptoes and shifted, feeling his hardness press against my cleft instead.
On a rumbling sound, Alaric reached between us, yanking his pants impatiently down, so I felt his bare cock slide against my cleft. The hard, yet velvety sensation making me clench my thighs, and making Alaric groan as his forehead pressed to the side of my head, his eyes closed in pleasure.