Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I hold his gaze with mine, gratified by his expression of pride.
Then, slowly, I uncurl my tongue and sweep it around him.
He groans, hips jerking forward as surprise widens his eyes.
“You’ve never done this before?” he asks, with a tone that suggests he doesn’t believe me.
I give the smallest shake of my head, still twisting my tongue around his flesh. There is no flavor to him, none of the delicious saltiness of Sarta. That’s a bit disappointing. I quite enjoyed the way her soft cunt spread open over my nose and mouth, the inviting scent of her. Sucking a cock isn’t as interesting.
It could be the disinterest that I assume Luthian is feigning. “She does have a wickedly talented tongue, Firo. If only you could feel it. So warm and wet, and such instinct. Though, I do wonder how much she can take. Open wider, Cenere.”
I do as he says and he pushes deeper to the back of my throat. I want to gag, but not wishing to humiliate myself by vomiting, I force myself to relax, to ignore the panic in my head at the realization that the further he goes, the less I can breathe, the harder it is to keep myself from choking. My eyes water, but still, I hold his gaze, hoping he sees how hard I’m trying, how I want to please him.
He withdraws slowly, and I do choke, a little, a stream of saliva pouring from the corner of my mouth. But he doesn’t seem angered. If anything, the flesh in my hand throbs more ardently. He enters my mouth again, slowly, withdraws, picking up speed, his fingers twisting in my hair to hold me still. I try to use my tongue, and he rewards me with a groan.
“I’m in practically to the root,” he tells Firo. “The back of her throat milks me as she chokes. It’s truly extraordinary to watch her, isn’t it? On her knees, taking my cock so obediently. Take notes, for I’ll prevail upon you, as well.”
“I’ll do anything,” Firo gasps. “Please, just let me—”
“Begging doesn’t become you,” Luthian admonishes him. “Close your lips around me, Cenere. You’re doing such a good job. Use your tongue. That’s it. Good girl.”
My clit aches with need. My hand strays to my lap, but my skirts are in the way.
“Not without my permission,” Luthian warns, and though a barrier prevents me from touching myself, I move my hand away.
I haven’t forgotten his threat from last night.
“I’m not going to be gentle with you anymore, Cenere,” he tells me. “There will be many times that your exquisite tongue will be put to use for languid hours, but you’ll also be called upon to endure roughness. Like this.”
His grip tightens on my head, and he forces me forward as he drives his cock in hard. There is no way to stop myself from gagging, no way to avoid choking mouthfuls of drool as he pummels the back of my throat again and again. I whimper, raise my hands to try to stop him, then catch myself. I want to be here. I asked to be here. I agreed to be here. My wishes, my goal, my revenge is on the line.
I will not disappoint myself.
I stare into his eyes. Not defiant. Not afraid. I stare into his eyes with gratitude and admiration, and they widen in shock. His lips part. He makes a noise that’s almost despair, almost rapture. A burst of salt and wet heat strikes my throat, and he pulls out of my mouth to pump sticky slashes across my face.
He grabs me, hauls me to my feet, and for a moment, I’m terrified that I’ve done something very wrong. I feel the chains around my wrists in a cold dungeon cell. I know that I am condemned to die a screaming, agonizing, but not painful death.
But he’s not angry. He laughs as he forces my head down, bringing my face close to Firo’s. A glob of pearly white falls from my cheek and onto his.
“Now, Firo,” Luthian says, breathless. “Clean her up.”
Chapter Eight
“Clean her up,” Luthian repeats, “and we’ll let you come.”
Firo’s tongue is dry against my cheek. I wonder if he’s had anything to drink at all during the hours he’s been tied down, because he sucks Luthian’s cum from my face as if it’s lifegiving water in the desolation of the Sorrowlands.
“Don’t forget her mouth,” Luthian commands him. “it’s quite talented. Perhaps I’ll allow you to try it sometime.”
Firo’s lips claim mine with fierce passion that leaves my head spinning. I’ve always thought of kisses as something given out of love and affection, but all I feel from him is desperation to consume me, to be consumed by me. I give in, sweeping my tongue into his mouth as he does to mine, tasting him and Luthian and swooning for more when my Guardian lifts my head away.