Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I move to the first shelf as he sets the candelabra on the table, looking for children's books. Something with big letters written out, a primer, anything of the kind. Instead, I see dictionaries and religious tomes mixed in with National Geographic magazines and books on fashion. Cozy mysteries are shoved haphazardly between encyclopedias that predate World War II, and it takes a few moments of digging before I find a small book with a golden spine, a children's book, sandwiched between old digest magazines. "Tomorrow when it's bright outside, we'll go through everything and look for books like this," I begin, turning around to look at him. "Unless you know where you're keeping them…"
The moment I turn, the words die in my throat.
Azar is seated at the end of the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. His head is tilted to the side and his long, pale hair spills over his shoulder as he watches me, but his eyes are that heated, silky-looking amber from last night, when he was between my thighs. My pussy clenches again in memory. "You're upset over something."
"I am not," I reassure him.
"You are, and I'm trying to understand why." He continues to watch me as I put the children's book on the table, not paying attention to it. When I draw back, he catches my hand in his grip, and again I'm struck at how warm his skin is. His thumb presses against my palm and then he pulls me toward him, pressing my hand toward his mouth. He licks the center of my palm and looks up at me with those liquid gold eyes. "Did you not like what we did last night?"
He's going to make me answer that, isn't he? I try to relax in his grip, because I'm torn between withdrawing my hand…and grabbing the front of his robe and kissing the hell out of him. I'm such a horny mess. "You know I did."
Azar rubs his lips against my palm again, his tongue flicking against the center and reminding me of everything that tongue did last night. "But you are remote today. Something troubles you about what we did. Tell me so I know not to do it again."
I lick my lips, feeling oddly shy. "It was fine—"
"Fine? Such praise."
My face feels hot. "I'm not going to praise you if that's what you're angling for."
"I am angling for answers. I don't know what to think." Azar runs his mouth along my hand and then rubs one fingertip against his lips. It's not kissing—I'm not sure he knows how to kiss, and the realization startles me—but it is intimate and intense and distracting. "Your mood tells me that I did something wrong, but at the same time, I can smell your arousal. So I do not know what to think."
I gasp, trembling. I should snatch my hand out of his grasp but I don't. "You can smell…?"
"When your cunt grows wet? Yes."
"Then why are you asking if it pleased me?" I feel naked at the realization that he can smell so much more than he's been letting on. Every time I get turned on, he can scent it? He's been smelling me like this for the last two days and hasn't said anything? I'm mortified. "If you already know the answer?"
Azar traces my fingertip against his lips. "Because your body might be responding, but if your mind is not there with it, it makes no difference." He touches his tongue to my skin in a light flick. "If all I wanted was your cunt, I'd claim it while you were sleeping and vulnerable. I want all of you involved, not just a body part."
His words—and his touch—make me tremble. "Well," I say softly. "What did you think? Do you want to do it again?"
Azar's golden eyes seem to darken even more. "I want to do it constantly."
I suck in a breath. The intensity in his voice, in his eyes, they make my stomach flutter. I shouldn't want him to touch me again, but just thinking about it is making me distracted and needy. "If I say I liked it, you realize it changes nothing between us, right?"
"I know this." Azar's mouth moves to my knuckles, his tongue flicking against them. "I simply enjoyed pleasuring you and wish to do so again. Are we not allowed to enjoy one another? Must we be martyrs to some unknown cause? Must you be miserable to satisfy your pride?"
Sometimes I hate that he makes everything sound so sensible. Like I'm the unreasonable one in our strange, strange relationship. "Of course not."
"So you will not deprive us both of the pleasure of my mouth on your cunt?" His eyes gleam, as if the battle has already been won. He tugs on my hand, pulling me toward him. "Because it is undoubtedly a pleasure for me."