Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
"Relax. There’s plenty we can do without going there today.”
“Like what?”
He grins and kneels at the end of the bed. “You look good enough to eat."
"You want to do that? Really?"
"Fuck yeah, I do." He climbs onto the bed like a leopard stalking its prey, and grabs my ankles, pulling me closer before pushing my thighs back so I'm completely open to him.
God, no one's ever gotten so close to me. Not like this.
“Ooooh!” I let out a shuddering moan as his broad tongue swipes through my sensitive folds. My back arches, pushing off the mattress. Oh, holy cannoli. That’s very different from my own fingers.
I close my eyes and focus on breathing as he does it again, sparks blazing down from my swollen nub to the tips of my toes. I’m going to explode if he keeps this up, but if I do, I won’t have died in vain.
He hums against me, his lips and tongue working together until my legs are trembling and my hands are fisted into the sheets. It’s too much, I can’t hold on. I’m either going to fly to bits or scream loud enough that the whole club knows what’s happening, and I’m not sure I care.
"You okay?" he asks, looking up at me from between my thighs. His face glistens, and I realize that's from me, but it feels too good to mind. "Too much? Want me to stop?"
Is he crazy? With both hands, I thread my fingers into his thick dark hair and pull him against me. "Never stop," I breathe hoarsely. "Please, never stop."
Riot chuckles and gets back to it. He flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud at the apex of my sex. A wave of pleasure rips through me.
The more he works his strong tongue against me, into me, flicking it over the top of me, the more I can settle in and really luxuriate in all the different sensations, including the soft tickle of his thick beard against my thighs.
My fingers run through the thick strands of Riot’s hair as he starts to get aggressive. His lips and beard are wet from my body. A molten pool opens deep within me, threatening to overflow. My toes curl and my pulse races as I close my eyes and moan. “Oh, God. Riot!”
He growls right up against me at the sound of his name on my lips. He slides a thick finger inside me, and it’s just what I need to go over. The wave of my orgasm crashes down, and I buck up against his face. He doesn’t stop, driving me on until I’m limp and panting in front of him.
I didn't know it was possible to feel like that.
Feeling like jelly, exhausted and overwhelmed. I force my breathing to slow, hoping maybe my racing heart will do the same. Every so often, a little aftershock courses through me, a pleasurable twitch, a little carnal reminder of what he just did to me. And when I finally open my eyes, he's right there, lying next to me, propped up on an elbow and looking back
I reach out and touch his face, running my fingers over his features. Those bottomless brown eyes couldn’t possibly belong to a brutal killer, but I’ve seen him in action.
"Welcome back," he says behind a very confident grin. "I was starting to worry I'd lost you."
I shake my head slowly. "No… just floating. Is it always like that?"
"Good question. Guess we won't know until we do some research."
"Oh God, not yet. I don't think I could take it." I roll into him, pressing my forehead against his powerful chest as he puts a strong arm around me. His cock, seeming even bigger and harder than before, is right there between us. I slide my hand down, not sure what to do, but wanting to try. “Show me what to do."
"Not everything has to be an even trade, baby. If you don’t want—"
"But I do." I wrap my fingers around him, shocked at the heat, and how velvety his skin is. He draws a sharp hiss when I do, so I let go again. "Was that wrong? Show me."
"Fuck. No, definitely not wrong. Don’t stop." He covers my hand with his and moves it over his rigid length, showing me how to stroke him. Slick drops of clear liquid come out of the tip and coat my hand, making it easy to slide up and down his length. "You can hold a little harder. Don't be afraid of it," he says huskily. "Fuck, yeah, just like that."
His breathing comes faster, and I pick up the stroking, trying to keep up. He lets go of my hand and grabs my thigh hard, like he needs me to hold on to. I follow my instincts, building a fast, twisting rhythm until even with my inexperience, it's obvious he’s balancing on the edge.