Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Ohhh…”
I rake my fingers through his hair and hold on tight until my knuckles go white. I’m burning all over, singing internally. I am mere seconds from detonation even though I’m not really sure if it is something I am meant to be cashing. Out-of-control fires are damaging, blasts are dangerous, so why the hell do I feel like I’ll never breathe again if I don’t give in to the sensation burning me alive?
As the butterflies take flight in my stomach, I buck against Ghost’s finger and mouth.
Heaven. I was right. That is what this is.
I close my eyes, giving in to the overwhelming rush bombarding me.
Then it happens.
I come—loudly.
Except this time, Ghost doesn’t clamp his hand over my mouth. He lets my moans ring through the compound, sealing our fate as brutally as mine when I was snatched without warning.
The recollection weakens my shudders and opens my eyes, but they also confirm I don’t want this to end. Our fate is sealed, we can’t alter it, so I plan to go out with a bang.
“Please…” I beg, writhing. “I want—”
“Me.” Ghost wipes his drenched mouth with the back of his hand before standing so we’re eye to eye.
He’s stating a fact, but I nod my head anyway.
I do want him. Badly.
His lips tug into a smirk before he murmurs, “Then take what you want, маленький ягненок. I am your whore for the taking.”
My mind goes wild, but not once does it veer toward my freedom. I think back on all our exchanges, and every memory leads me in the same direction.
To me on my knees the first day we officially met.
“Fuck, маленький ягненок,” Ghost mutters when I push him back far enough I can wedge myself between him and the door. My body is still achy, particularly after the violent shudders it just endured, but the last thing I experience is pain when I bring myself to my knees.
Ghost is hard and straining against the zipper of his pants, and my mouth is salivating at the thought of tasting him.
I just wish I didn’t lack confidence. I have no clue what I’m doing. None whatsoever.
“Take it out,” Ghost demands, his voice as rough and commanding as ever.
When I do, the last of my confidence is pinched. He is much thicker and longer up close.
There’s no way it will fit in my mouth much less anywhere else.
“Don’t worry, маленький ягненок. You were designed for me. I’m sure you can take it.” Ghost strokes his cock with each word he speaks, and it drives me wild with desire. “Now open up like a good little cum slut and flatten your tongue. I want as much of my cock in your mouth as possible.”
His thighs twitch when I do as asked, but they don’t remain clenched until my tongue takes matters into its own hands. It swipes across the crest of his cock, gathering up a bead of pre-cum there before it can be absorbed by his boxers.
Ghost curses in Russian before lunging forward, forcing his big cock into my mouth.
It feels foreign to start with, then gagging before it eventually settles on exciting. He doesn’t ram himself in so deep that tears spring in my eyes like Master Rudd’s wives or rip my hair from my scalp when he weaves his fingers through the glossy locks. He merely rocks his cock in and out, growling when my tongue swirls along the vein throbbing at the bottom.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around. It is better than I imagined.”
Loving that he’s thought about this as much as me, I take as much of him into my mouth as I can, moaning that he’s filling me like no one else could. He’s so big and thick I barely get more than his knob in, but his grunts and moans keep the temperature in the bathroom scorching and the wetness between my legs saturated.
Accidentally, I bite down on Ghost’s cock when a cool smoothness hits between my legs. Ghost adjusted his footing. Instead of both legs being on each side of my thighs, he’s forced one between them, the toe of his boot a mere inch from my throbbing clit.
I should feel dirty when I grind down on the shoe that’s been dotted with blood more than once, but I don’t. Ghost’s filthy mouth as he praises my skills makes me feel wanted and sexy, and if the saltiness pumping out of Ghost’s cock is anything to go by, he’s enjoying the naughtiness as much as I am.
“Grip me at the base, маленький ягненок. Stroke me while fucking me with your wicked mouth.”
“Like this?”
Ghost’s head falls back with a moan when I circle my hand around the bottom of his cock and pump him. I almost got to second base the weekend before I was kidnapped, and Blaire and I joked often about how we’re meant to pretend we are making butter to get a guy off.