Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45366 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I purse my lips, hating the fact that I met this sexy man on the bathroom floor after upchucking. I can’t believe I’m naked in his weird giant kitchen sink while he bathes me. It’s too surreal.
Papi pours water over my head next. The shampoo he lathers into it smells as divine as the soap he used on my face. I have no idea what the scent is.
“Is this blond not your real hair color?” he asks.
I swallow before murmuring, “No. I need to dye it soon. I have… I had an appointment for next week.” Is he disappointed to find out I’m not a real blond?
“Why do your females feel the need to alter their appearances with makeup and hair dye?” He sounds genuinely incredulous as he rinses the shampoo out of my hair.
I tip my head back and meet his gaze. “Your women don’t do their best to look pretty?”
He frowns. It feels like he’s looking past my eyes into my soul, like he’s trying to read me but can’t quite do so. “The last of our females passed into the next realm decades ago. The only females on Eleadia now are the mates we claim from Earth.”
“Oh.” I’m stunned. “Surely they wear makeup and curl their hair.”
He shakes his head. “There is no such thing as makeup or hair products on Eleadia, Little one. From now on, everyone will see your natural beauty.”
I gasp. I wouldn’t even go an hour without makeup. In fact, Bialar is the first man to see beneath to my real skin since I could hold a mascara wand. I was probably eleven.
The nausea returns. I’m shaking, and I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the complete uncertainty I feel about my future. Surely he’s exaggerating. “I think I need another margarita,” I murmur.
He frowns again. I perplex him. “There are no mind-altering substances on Eleadia either. You had your last cosmopolitan thirty minutes ago.”
My jaw drops open. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, Baby girl. You’ll only eat and drink healthy foods that nourish your body. You’ll have more energy and feel amazing. Plus, you’ll live for centuries.”
I’m pretty sure my eyeballs pop out of my head. The only reason I know they aren’t currently dangling from the sockets is because I can still see Papi’s face. “Centuries?” I lift my hand out of the water and stare at my fingers. “Is this water actually a fountain of youth? You weren’t exaggerating?”
Papi chuckles. “Sort of. It’s healthier.” He grabs a cloth, wets it, and pours liquid soap onto it before lifting one of my arms and continuing to wash me.
I consider arguing with him and taking over. I can wash myself. But his touch is soothing, and I’m still a bit too nauseous to move more than necessary.
He doesn’t linger, but when he runs the cloth over my breasts, my breath hitches. I’m a bit dizzy, but his touch feels good.
“Spread your legs for me, Little one,” he urges as he slides the cloth up my inner thigh.
“I think I’m clean enough,” I argue as I reach for his hand to stop him. It seems like his fountain-of-youth water is also making me horny. Or maybe it’s his scent. Or the alcohol. A combination I bet. Either way, I don’t want him to touch me down there.
Papi wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls my arm away. “Let Papi finish, Kendra. Be a good girl.”
I’m trembling. Part of me wants to let him touch me. Even with the wash cloth. I sense it’s going to feel good. I want to know what it might feel like to be touched by someone I’m actually attracted to. Insanely attracted to, I realize.
Visions of letting Papi touch me—everywhere—run through my head like snapshots. His mouth lowering to kiss my breasts… His fingers stroking my pussy… His cock hard against my hip…
I shudder and a soft moan escapes my lips. My thoughts aren’t based on reality. They’re fantasies. Scenes from naughty romance novels. But my guard is down, and my legs part as Papi reaches between them.
I gasp and grab his forearm as he strokes the cloth over my folds, lingering, touching the sensitive nub that is suddenly desperate for attention. I lean my forehead against his chest, getting his dress shirt all wet. I grab his shirt at his waist with my free hand, trying to keep from spinning out of control.
Papi’s hand slides up into my hair, cups the back of my head, and holds me against him. He continues to stroke my folds. Gently. Reverently. When his hand slides back toward my forbidden hole, I clench. “No,” I whimper.
“Shh. Be a good girl for Papi. Let me wash your bottom. You won’t have any secrets from Papi, Little one.”
I hold my breath while he finishes, and I’m shaking as he removes his hand. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this aroused. I’m surprised it’s even possible through the haze of my alcohol stupor.