Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“I know you are.” My heart skipped a beat at the determination on his face and the dark shadows beneath his eyes.
He was stunning. Masculine but caring. Possessive but loving. The complete perfect package.
I grabbed handfuls of linen as his head bent. His breath fanned hot and steamy on my pussy. His lips hovered, trapping me in the acute moment of anticipation.
My pulse turned into a geyser, wanting to burst. “Please …” I braced for the slippery incredibleness of his tongue.
Another breath, the billowing heat condensing on my skin.
Another.
I couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Please!” I cried.
“Be my fucking pleasure.” He licked me.
I shot upright, hurling straight toward heaven. “Oh, God!”
His hands captured my thighs, holding them down and spread. His tongue dashed over my clit, lapping quick and sharp. Then he flattened the strong muscle and swept it from bud to entrance.
I spiraled.
The pleasure … it was too much.
My mind swam as he nibbled and speared inside me with no warning.
“Oh, hell. Arthur!”
He growled, thrusting his tongue again. “Goddammit. Believe me.”
“I believe you. I believe you!”
His five o’clock shadow rasped my sensitive inner thighs. “No, you don’t. Not yet.” He tasted me thoroughly, moving back to suck on my clit.
It was too good.
I’ll explode.
“I do. I do believe you!” My legs tightened until every muscle cramped. “Please … I can’t stand it. Stop.”
But he didn’t stop. Again and again he dipped inside me, dragging his tongue to lap and lathe.
I lost myself to him, bobbing away on the tide of bliss he created. He was Poseidon and I was an unlucky ship about to be wrecked on the shores of a detonating orgasm.
My pussy tightened, reaching for the promised shoreline, wanting nothing more than to decimate into tiny shards.
“Yes …”
“Not yet,” Arthur growled. “You’re not allowed until I say so.”
My eyes flashed open, half in rage, half in obedience. “I can’t stop it.”
“Yes, you can.” Letting me go, he crept up my body. His lips were swollen and damp, my wetness glistening on his chin. I waited for him to smother me with his body, but instead he urged me to roll onto my side. “You’re not to come until I’m inside you.”
Every inch of me was alive, crawling and begging for a release.
Lying down beside me, he lassoed a strong arm around my belly and yanked me into the hard muscles of his body. My back to his front. My softness against his hardness.
I flinched as he ground his throbbing erection against my lower back.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Buttercup. I’ll prove to you that I can love you while using you. That I can trust you while riding you. That I can believe in you.”
I moaned as his hand ran over my hip, grabbing my thigh and wrenching it back to entwine with his.
“Take me,” I mumbled. My body undulated, my core empty.
With my legs open, he maneuvered his hips and fisted his cock, guiding it to my entrance.
The moment the tip of him entered me, I gritted my teeth and fought off the relentless orgasm.
“Don’t come. Not yet,” he ordered, thrusting inside me with one slippery impale. “Do. Not. Come.”
I stopped cataloguing how my blood boiled, how my skin itched, and how my mind sang for freedom. I focused only on the thickness stretching me. The overwhelming delight of accepting my soul mate into my body.
He was what I craved. His tongue had been a perfect entrée, but this … this was the main course and dessert all in one.
Keeping me pinned against him, he rocked into me, rolling me from my side onto my stomach. My arms splayed out. I moaned, biting a pillow as he rode me. His thrusts were slow, then quick, gathering speed faster and faster.
“God, you feel amazing,” he grunted. One hand clamped on my hip, keeping me imprisoned beneath him, while the other wrapped around my nape.
The primitive way he held me undid the floodgates and I cried out louder and louder with every thrust. I couldn’t move. I could only take what he gave. Every stroke sent me higher into the spindling promise.
His teeth razored my ear. His breath scalded my skin. “Come. I need you to come.” He thrust hard. “Now, Cleo.” His voice was no longer controlled.
His divine rock gave me no room to argue. I was trapped. He was above me, around me, inside me. He was me. I was him.
My orgasm would be his. We would share our release in some cosmically charged way.
His hand drifted down my front and pinched my clit. “I said I need you to come.”
I moaned as his fingers rubbed in perfect circles, blending in empathy with his rapid pace.
“Oh, God. Yes, don’t stop.” My body gave up trying to make sense of where to rock or flow. I stopped trying to hold off and gave myself over to the inevitable combustion.