Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
I roll onto my back, bringing her with me. “You’re in my bed. I don’t want to rest. You promised me an entire night, and dawn is still hours away.”
She settles between my thighs with a casual grace that takes my breath away. “It feels like you’re running from something, little one.”
Maybe. Probably. “It’s not shame. I like what we do, and I care about you.” More than care. “I’m not running away from regret, either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Hmm.”
It feels like she’s seeing me too clearly, but then, she always sees me too clearly. It’s something that I cherish and dread at the same time.
Finally, Rusalka kisses me. “You’ve trusted me this far, and so I’ll trust that you’ll tell me if this becomes something you use to harm yourself.” Before I can come up with a response to that, they grin against my lips. “And I’ll admit that I’m nowhere near done with you. If you’re determined not to rest?” She laughs, low and wicked. “So be it.”
Their flames lick over my body as they kiss me. They’re all warmth and pressure and the occasional little flick of pain that makes it feel all the better. With another person, in another situation, I’d be terrified of being burned, but with Rusalka, I give myself over to their ministrations with gleeful abandon. It’s all pleasure, even the small pains.
They push back, creating a little distance between our bodies. I immediately reach for them. “More.”
“I’ll give you more, little one.” Their tone is amused in a way that makes me feel as though I’m in on the joke instead of the butt of it. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I say without hesitation. “With anything. With everything.”
Their expression flickers so quickly, I almost miss the change. I’m too far gone to worry about what it means, especially when the fire licks over my body and gathers at Rusalka’s hips. I watch with wide eyes as the flames wraps around her, pools in front, then forms . . . “A strap-on.”
Another of those low laughs that make my toes curl. “This is so much more than that.” She rolls her hips, pressing that fiery phallus into me, just a little. Warmth and a deep pleasure steal my thoughts and what little trepidation I might have had. Rusalka pauses. “My fire amplifies pleasure, and what you’re feeling echoes through me, in me. It’s . . .” They trail off, their eyes flickering again as they press a little farther into me, farther into themself.
“Good. Really good.” I grip their hips, arching up to meet them. “More. Please.”
“I’ll give you as much as you can handle.” She shifts me onto my left side and presses my right thigh up, opening me obscenely . . . and allowing her to settle even deeper inside me. Deep enough that her pussy presses to mine. Deep enough that her vibrating clitoris rubs against me, seeming to pulse through my entire core. Then she begins to move.
I’ve spent a number of guilt-ridden nights sneaking porn on my phone, enough to know the beats of penetrative sex and what to expect. My sole experience was similar enough, albeit without the screaming orgasms the women in those videos seem to have on command.
This is . . . different. Slower. More sensual. Rusalka is barely moving, just slightly rocking our hips in tandem as her wings create a heatless inferno at her back. Her flames hit that wicked spot inside me as her vibrations pulse faster. “Oh.” It’s like a flip is switched. All my bones go melty and strange, my muscles incapable of doing anything but clinging to her. “That feels so good.”
“You should always feel good, little one.” They kiss me before I can come up with a response, which is just as well. I don’t know what I’d say to that. It’s the antithesis of what I’ve grown up believing, and even as much as I want to embrace it wholeheartedly, I can’t. Not yet. But maybe someday.
Rusalka doesn’t pick up their pace, kissing me as they work me closer and closer to an orgasm unlike any I’ve experienced to date, building, building, building. Their breath comes just as fast as mine, their perfect breasts so close that I can’t stop myself from cupping them. I pluck desperately at their nipples, which only serves to make their vibrations stronger. “Oh my . . . Rusalka.”
And then the pleasure isn’t building but exploding inside me like a firework show, too bright and beautiful to witness, something I have to close my eyes against. That doesn’t stop words from bursting out of me, though—the very words I swore I’d keep contained no matter what.
“I love you!”
20
RUSALKA
Hours and hours spent wrapped up in Belladonna, and when the morning finally comes, I can’t ignore her words any longer. I love you. I stare down at the human, her now-short hair flung across her pillow, her limbs slack with sleep, her expression relaxed in a way it never seems to be during waking hours.