Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
He coasts his hands slowly up my thighs, guiding them wider yet, until his thumbs brush the lace hem of the pajamas. “I’m going to touch you now.”
I exhale shakily. “You don’t have to narrate every move before you do it.”
He gives me a sharp look I can feel despite the shadows. “You squirm so beautifully every time I do. I like it.” He edges his thumbs into the gap between the silky fabric and my overheated skin. “No panties?”
“No,” I gasp. “They…don’t work with the pajamas.”
“Best money ever spent,” he murmurs. He brushes my pussy and applies the barest pressure, spreading my folds. “You’re wet. Just for me?”
It takes several beats for me to realize it’s not a rhetorical question. I try to hold still, but I can’t help squirming just like he predicted. “Apollo—”
“Tell me, Cassandra.” He strokes up and down either side of my pussy as if he has all the time in the world. As if I’m not going to come apart the moment he touches my clit. “Tell me what gets you off. Tell me what you like and what you don’t. Tell me everything.”
I will cut out my own tongue before I admit that I’m afraid everything works for me because it’s him. I might have propositioned him for a fling, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to bare my heart. I swallow hard. “I like knowing I affect you like this. It makes me squirm.”
“Mmm.” He rewards me by dipping his thumbs a little deeper into my folds. “Is that all?”
Damn him. I’m panting as if I’ve run a great distance. I can’t think past where he touches me, his soft but commanding questions. I shake my head. “No, that’s not all.” This time, I don’t make him prod me further. “I liked it when you hauled me in here and pinned me to the couch, even if you were doing it to keep us hidden instead of as foreplay. I–I like this.”
“I like this, too.” He leans down and presses his face to the fabric right over my pussy. He inhales deeply and I nearly come on the spot. Apollo kisses one thigh and then the other. “When we go back to the bedroom, you’re going to let me look at you.”
“Apollo…”
“You’re so beautiful, Cassandra.” He kisses a little higher on my thighs. “You wouldn’t deny me after I’ve spent years picturing you naked, would you?”
I whimper as he presses a kiss to my pussy through the silk of my shorts. “Oh gods. That feels good.” Between his mouth and my desire, the fabric has gone slippery and wet. He rubs the flat of his tongue against my clit. I want to touch him, to dig my fingers into his hair, to hold him in place until the orgasm rushing to the fore overwhelms me completely.
Instead, I press my hands harder to the couch, obeying the unspoken demand he gave when he placed them there. I can’t stop myself from speaking, though. “More.”
He doesn’t respond with words, but he doesn’t need to. He just keeps up that devastating stroke. I slump back against the couch, writhing even as I try to hold still. “I…” I moan. “I can’t be quiet. It feels too good. We’re going to get caught.”
Without missing a beat, he reaches up and covers my mouth with his big hand. It’s not a harsh touch. Even when Apollo caught me earlier, his grip was firm but not painful. It’s so perfectly him that I lose it.
My orgasm draws a cry from my lips, and he presses his hand a little harder against my mouth as he keeps working me with his tongue. Pleasure rises and rises, cresting again and again. Too much. It’s too much. How am I supposed to move on after this, knowing how good it can be with him? This was a mistake, but I don’t care that my parachute is malfunctioning.
I’m in a free fall and loving every second of it.
Apollo moves his hand, only to replace it with his mouth. I taste myself on his tongue, and it drives me wild. More. I need more. If I’m setting myself up for pain, I will draw out every bit of pleasure in the time I have. I dig my hands into his hair and pull him close as he kisses me. This time, there’s no teasing. He devours me.
Footsteps sound in the hallway again.
I tense, expecting him to stop, but he tugs me down to the floor. I’m still processing the fact that I like how he moves me around when he arranges me in front of him, kneeling on the floor facing the couch with him at my back. He slides one hand down the front of my pajama bottoms to cup my pussy and whispers in my ear, “Be silent, Cassandra. Otherwise, we’re going to get caught.”