Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Agakor groans, and his mouth locks on mine, his tongue flicking playfully against my own. His hand slips between us as I rock against his cock, and I whimper when he presses a big finger to the entrance of my body. It feels enormous when he pushes deeper, my breath stuttering against his lips. "I need to stretch you or this isn't going to work, love. Do you trust me?"
I manage a nod, biting down on his lower lip. Our mouths keep moving over one another, even though we're not really kissing anymore. It's just frantic motions, one desperately tasting the other as he fingers me. I bite back a cry when he pushes deep inside me, because it feels like too much. Too much, and it's just a finger. I have no idea how we're going to do this, and a tendril of worry threads through my thoughts. "M-maybe we should have brought oil?"
He kisses me, mouth surprisingly soft against mine. "I've got you, love. It'll be fine. I promise. Just rock yourself on my hand. Make your body feel good, hmm?"
He thrusts deep into me, and I gasp against his lips, clinging to him. That felt like a lot, but when he thrusts again, it doesn't feel nearly as tight as it did. He pumps his finger into me a few more times, murmuring about what a good wife I am, and how sweet I feel on his hand, and then he adds a second finger, and the tightness starts all over again. I'm not sure I like this part, because it's uncomfortable and my body is making wet, sloppy sounds that are obscene in the darkness, but Agakor's mouth is sweet and reassuring on mine.
"Does that feel good?"
I hesitate a moment, wondering if I should lie. "It's different."
He chuckles, pressing more fervent kisses to me. "That's a no, then. I know what will help." He strokes his paired fingers deep into me again, and this time, his thumb grazes through my folds. He presses it against my clit and when he pumps into me again, it moves. This time, I whimper, and it's not with confusion. That feels good. Really good. And having his fingers inside me changes how everything feels. "That's better," he breathes. "That's my sweet wife."
Moaning, I rock on his hand as he continues to work two fingers deep into my body, his thumb teasing the button of my clit. This time, when he adds a third finger, I suck in a breath but it still feels all right. Tight, but the tightness quickly goes away from his encouraging words and the feel of his thumb on my clit, toying with me until I'm rocking frantically against his hand, full of hungry need.
"Iolanthe. Iolanthe. Do you want to come?" His words are ragged, his tone husky. "Shall I make you come, my wife?"
I pump my hips over him, working my body against his hand. As I do, I can feel the heated length of his cock between us, dribbles of his seed glazing my skin where I've brushed against him. It reminds me that there's a bigger goal here, and that if he makes me come first, we might not finish. He's not nearly as keen on deflowering me ahead of our wedding as I am.
So I shake my head and give his lower lip a fierce nip. "Want you inside me. I can take it."
"I know you can, sweet love," he groans. "Gods, I know you can. I just want you to be sure—"
"I'm sure. I'm very sure, Agakor. Please."
He makes a pained sound, pressing his forehead to mine. "Gods, I don't deserve you."
"But you have me anyhow," I tease. "So make me yours already."
Laughter huffs out of him and he gives my clit one last final rub before slipping his fingers out of me. I immediately feel bereft, wanting to whine in protest at losing that strange, pressing fullness. But then he's kissing me again, and his hands are on my buttocks as he lifts me up and spreads me wide.
Then I feel him, pressing against the most intimate part of my body, the entrance to my womb. He's thick and hot and invasive and just the head of him pushing there makes me squirm with pure lust. "Please," I moan. "Oh please."
"Go slow," he warns me, teeth gritted. "Sink down onto me."
Oh. He wants me to take control? I shift my weight on my knees, my insides clenching at the press of his cock against my entrance. Bearing down against such a large, hard thing doesn't seem as if it'll work. But Agakor is patient, holding me locked in place as he presses kisses to my face and lets me wiggle and squirm over him, trying to figure out the logistics of how our bodies will come together.