Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
She hums, fucking hums, as though she likes the sound of that as she seals her lips tight around me. Her teeth graze my shaft, and I levitate, my hand feeding into her hair as her eyes find mine, seeking reassurance.
“You’re doing so well, princess. Taking me like such a good girl.” Because everything feels so good. Her hand grips my base, her avid eyes and hot, wet mouth.
My hand follows her rhythm, holding her tenderly as she sucks and swirls and drives me to the edge of ecstasy, only to bring me back. Our eye contact is a layer of pleasure so intense, the vibration of her enthusiasm and enjoyment makes my hips jerk to meet her.
“Oh God, that’s it.” Pleasure swells under my skin, my balls contracting as I tighten my hand in her hair and thrust up. Two hands now, guiding her, showing her what I need. “I’m so close, sweetheart. I know you can take it.”
My thigh tautens under her hand, my stomach muscles tensing against the coming onslaught.
“Oh fuck. Coming, Lavender. Fuck, I’m coming.”
With one final, torturous suck, she presses farther, taking me deeper into her mouth, her hands working my shaft messily and rough.
I love it. I fucking love it. Even as she pulls back to watch my cock erupt, ribbons of thick, white cum streaming between us.
13
LAVENDER
It’s hot and dark as I fling the sheets from my body, desperate for a little air, my skin begging for nakedness. For cool. Still in the realms of sleep, I pull myself upright and drag off my T-shirt, flopping back to the mattress again.
I smell like chlorine… oh, I threw myself into the pool, didn’t I?
I wasn’t drunk, just a little messy with nerves. And maybe a tiny bit buzzed on Raif. On blowing him. How does that even work? Being on your knees shouldn’t feel like a power move, but it did. And at that moment, it was either a dunking or a fucking.
Appealing but no. Not until he begs me.
His face. My God, his face. Slacked-jawed and intimate. He was so into it.
Me, too. I’ve never enjoyed that before.
I turn my smile into the pillows, sinking… sinking…
Sleeping.
And dreaming. It’s so hot, like there’s a fire in my bed.
No, not a fire. A man.
All man, my mind whispers, sounding pleased as my fingertips coast over a broad chest. Coarse hair. Hot skin. I run my hand lower over the jut of his pelvis and purr as my fingers traverse back, slipping the elastic waistband.
Or almost as they’re caught.
I smile, biting my lips as though to contain it.
“Princess.”
Raif’s voice is deep, and his skin smells delicious. Musky male. Laundry detergent. Probably the sheets. The trace of a cologne I don’t yet know. Soap. The tiniest hint of smoke. It makes for a heady cocktail as I nestle my lips to his skin and lick.
He tastes like salt and bad decisions.
Raif groans a rough masculine sound, and the sound makes me feel giddy.
Pulse-y. And needy for relief.
I slide my thigh over his, and his hand loosens, allowing me to press my mostly naked form over his. He feels good—so good. Maybe I should’ve nixed the pool on the terrace. We could’ve been doing this all night long.
I suck the salt from the skin of his neck, wriggling a little as I try to find some relief.
How long has it been? I hate how the thought intrudes. I won’t think about it, then. And I don’t as his arms come around me.
“Oh.” The sound is just a breath, not even a sigh, as I slip my hand between my legs and find myself already wet.
“Fuck.” His curse, my moans, his hand closing on mine. He brings it to his mouth and bites my fingertips. He sucks on them and whispers, “Tastes like a dream.”
“Because it is.” Then I’m moving forward. Or up. Stretched out by him. I moan as he sucks on my neck, scrabbling against him as the hard shape of his cock nudges against my cleft. Just a wisp of cotton separates us.
“Yes, there—just there.”
I want to reach down and explore, but I don’t want him to stop kissing me.
“You’re burning,” I whisper.
He exhales into my neck, groaning quietly. “For you.”
His hands find my hips and mine the hardness of his pecs. He begins to rock. To rock me and my fingers curl, nails pinching.
“Fuck.” A hiss.
I arch my body, his crown hitting me just… “Yes, there!”
His grip on my breast, breath warm, mouth wet as he sucks my nipple between his lips. I keep moving, moving, keeping that rhythm. That pace. “Please don’t stop.” I anchor my hands in his hair, suddenly panicked that he might. The pulse between my legs grows, filling the gaps inside me.
What he was made to do.
Like he’s read my mind, his hand slips lower, hooking my underwear to the side.