Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
It was a primal need, to taste her now, like this, her pussy still swollen and bloody from my cock’s claiming last night.
Greta touched my head lightly, almost shyly but I could feel her searching gaze on me.
I cast my eyes up when I opened my mouth and ran my tongue along the trace of dried blood from the curve of her ass to her clit. “You taste like mine.”
Her fingers tightened in my hair when I slipped my tongue between her pussy lips, thoroughly tasting her. Soon the metallic tang was replaced by the warmer, muskier aroma of her lust which coated my lips and tongue.
I couldn’t resist. I pressed my tongue firmly against her sore opening. Her body resisted the pressure, but I needed more. Tilting my head and opening my mouth wider, I increased the pressure until the tip of my tongue finally forced Greta’s pussy to surrender. Her walls closed around my tongue and the taste of her—sweet, musky, tangy, metallic—bloomed heavily in my mouth. I greedily soaked it up as I fucked her with my tongue. She was tense at first. The primal need to claim her again was too strong to allow me to stop.
I held Greta’s gaze, telling her with my eyes that she was mine as my tongue parted her swollen opening again and again. “Amo,” she whimpered. A little pain and plenty of lust.
Soon her lust ran down my chin as she gripped my hair with one hand while the other clung to the sink.
“Give me everything,” I rasped and she arched up with a cry. I closed my lips around her clit as her pussy pulsated against me, her arousal dripping down onto the floor.
My breathing was harsh and my cock so stiff it was excruciating. I pulled away. Greta’s pussy still twitched, glistening and even more swollen than before.
Greta stroked my hair, swallowing. She smiled down at me in wonder. “Every time you taste me, I feel so worshipped, but today was special. Thank you for this.”
“My pleasure,” I rasped.
She bit her lip as her gaze dipped lower to my cock. “You can have me if you want.”
I rubbed my thumb very lightly over her pussy. I could tell how tender it was. If I took her now, it would be as painful as last night, if not worse. I leaned forward and kissed her sore flesh. “Not today.”
There would be plenty of times for me to claim her in the future and I had every intention of doing so at every possible chance.
I glanced at my watch and cursed. Greta followed my gaze. “We only have five minutes before the old hawks from my father’s side of the family will descend on us to gather the sheets.”
Greta gave me a worried look. “The blood.”
“Get ready, I’ll take care of the blood.”
After a quick kiss, I went into the bedroom and picked up the towel, stuffing it into my suitcase. I didn’t trust the cleaning staff not to do some shit with it. I’d burn it later at home.
I grabbed my knife from the nightstand and brought the tip down on my upper arm. Once I’d spread some blood on the sheets to create a satisfying image, I got dressed. Not a moment too soon because a knock sounded. I opened the door and allowed my aunts and some wives from traditional families to gather Greta’s dress and the bloody sheets.
Gianna stepped in their way when they tried to leave. “You realize how misogynistic this tradition is, right?”
“It is a tradition we all agreed on. Even your daughter will have to follow it,” one of the women said haughtily.
“Over my dead body.” The women pushed past Gianna who glared at their backs.
Mom and Serafina lingered in the hallway, not bothering to be part of this show. Mom gave me a sympathetic smile.
“I really hope this was fake,” Gianna said with a warning look at me. She turned on her heel and stalked away.
Mom poked her head in, and Serafina hovered beside her. “Everything okay?”
“You can ask Greta yourself,” I said with a knowing look. I doubted Mom or Serafina were worried about my wellbeing, and I couldn’t really blame them.
When Greta emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white dress with red polka-dots and red flats, her eyes grew wide at the sight of our mothers hovering in the entrance area of the suite. “Is everything okay?”
Mom laughed and exchanged a look with Serafina, who said, “That’s what we were going to ask you.”
“Oh,” Greta said, her cheeks blushing, and a pleased smile parted her lips.
“No words necessary after that look,” Serafina said, flushing too. “I guess we’ll give you another moment. But you should be downstairs in ten minutes.”
With a wave, they disappeared, closing the door after them.
I pulled Greta against me. “It’s a pity that we still have social responsibilities. But we have to face the wolves now.”