Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
He ran his tongue up the inside of her right thigh, over her lips, and circled her inflamed clit. He had teased her clit into a fiery need with his knots, and that hunger hadn’t eased. The moment his tongue touched her she cried out and her body jerked, her sex clenched and that warm mixture of spices spilled out of her. He lapped it up, careful to keep from giving her any release.
He repeated the tongue action up her left thigh to her clit and this time flicked it hard after circling it. His name came out loud. Demanding. He smiled as the spice spilled into his mouth and her hips became nearly as frantic as her voice. He held her down easily with one arm laid across her, giving him the use of both hands.
He lifted his head to look at her. Red hair spilled wildly over his black sheets. Her breasts jutted upward, swaying with every movement. She still had rope marks on her skin and he loved that she had the kind of skin that would hold those marks for a long time. Her nipples were hard little peaks, tight, showing him she liked everything he was doing to her.
Sevastyan pushed, first one leg up and over his shoulder, and then the other, opening her even farther to him. She was beautiful, looking wild and vulnerable. Lust had darkened the amber in her eyes to a decided gold and turned the green to an emerald. He loved that look of desperate hunger on her. It added to the raw fire burning through his veins and coiling deep in his gut. He wanted to hold her on the edge for a very long time so he could see her just like this. Her body covered with his marks. His ropes. His fingerprints. His teeth. The strawberries he’d left behind to mark his trails.
He bent his head to her once more and this time he simply devoured her. Ate her the way he hungered for her. Like she was his last meal and he wouldn’t leave one single drop behind. He used his tongue like a weapon, stabbing, stroking, petting, sometimes a counterpoint to his fingers and thumb as he flicked and thumped her clit, brushed and circled and then suddenly suckled like a madman. Flambé answered with a drawn-out wail, a moan, and thrust her hips into his mouth, desperate to bring herself off.
Sevastyan immediately eased back with butterfly flutters of his tongue while his fingers and thumb slid between her cheeks to find the skid marks of his knots, brushing back and forth gently, spreading her spicy, cinnamon-clove and Egyptian jasmine honey all over so he could lick that off as well.
“Sevastyan, please.” Her voice came out a breathy little sob. A plea.
He lifted his head and rubbed his face leisurely on her thighs before looking up at her. “Please what, Flambé?”
“I need you to . . .” She broke off.
“To?” he prompted and bent his head and sank his teeth into the tender area of her inner thigh, high, up close to her dripping slit. She jerked, more of that precious liquid spilling. He lapped it up and then flicked her inflamed clit. He could keep it up all night. His cock ached painfully, but he was used to ignoring his needs.
“I need your cock,” she finally managed.
He lifted his head again. “Where? Your mouth? I wouldn’t mind seeing your lips stretched around my cock. I have to admit, since first seeing you, it’s been a fantasy of mine. Or here?” Deliberately, he pushed his thumb into her forbidden little hole, clear up to his knuckle. She was already slick from the juices that he’d spread and then licked from her. “Or your sweet little pussy? Exactly where do you want my cock, baby? Because I’m more than willing to give you whatever you want.”
He withdrew his thumb and then began lapping at her clit and pussy again, not waiting for her answer. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her breasts swaying invitingly with every desperate intake of air. He played his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerve endings, waiting for her to find her voice, all the while making it difficult.
“My pussy,” she managed.
“Sweet little pussy,” he corrected, and bit her other thigh. She jerked and cried out, liquid heat glistening for him. She was totally made for a man like him.
He knelt up, drawing her legs around his hips, forcing her body to stay wide open to his. With one hand he circled the base of his cock. He felt heavier and thicker than he’d ever felt in his life. She’d done that to him and he wasn’t even in her.
“Look at me, Flambé. Keep your eyes open and look at me.” It was a command, nothing less, and he meant it.