Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
He cups my breast, his spread thumb and forefinger the perfect frame as he lowers his head, sucking my nipple over the fabric. Need spikes inside me, and I whimper as he curls his thumb inside the lacy cup, exposing my nipple to his view.
“I love your tits.” His base compliment hits all my pleasure buttons, my body reacting viscerally as his thumb glides back and forth over the sensitive peak. “At some point tonight, I’m going to slide my cock between your pretty lips. You’re going to make it nice and . . . wet.” Had a word ever felt so seductive? “Then I’m going to fuck you right here.”
It’s not a question, and I’m okay with that as he holds me. Whispers. Squeezes. Sensation layering sensation as I pull his head closer, desperate.
“Fin.” His name aches from me.
“You want my mouth?” His breath is a hot burst against my nipple.
“Yes. Touch me.” I shiver as he presses the flat of his tongue to my nipple, swirling it across the tip.
“You’re so sensitive here, aren’t you?” His eyes shine as they lift to find mine, his body an elegant arch as he pulls my nipple into his mouth. He sucks as though desperate, his attentions rougher than before, but the tide of his actions matches my need perfectly.
“I bet you could come like this.” His assertion is hoarse. “I bet you’d come so hard without me touching you anywhere else.”
The way I feel, it’s entirely possible, and I encourage the return of his mouth.
“Yes, oh, God. Like that.” In his mouth, my nipple is a taut, aching point. My nails tighten against his shoulder as I share this pleasured pain. “Take me to bed.”
“No, darling. I want you right where you are,” he whispers, words peppered in the space between his kisses. “Just. Like. This.”
I watch through watery eyes as his large hands curl around my bare hips, his thumbs caressing my hip bones. He lowers himself to his knees.
“You’re so lovely, Mila. I’m going to miss holding you.” He tips forward, pressing his mouth over my underwear. “And I’m going to miss this pussy.” He inhales so deeply and presses his tongue to my lace-covered slit. “So, so much.”
“Oh, God.” My words are sandpapery as I arch away from the wall, my hand clasping his head, holding him there. Hot breath and soft lips, my insides throbbing needily for this. For him.
His eyes catch mine, his thumbs curling into the sides of my underwear. “Look at me, Mila. I want to so badly, I’m shaking.”
I whimper, loving this. Loving how open he’s being. As he yanks the gossamer fabric to my knees, my body bounces from the wall with the motion. I inhale a sharp gasp, twisting, as I seek to fill the space between us.
“Can I touch you?” he murmurs, watching as he presses his thumb to my slit.
“Yes.” I swallow my gasp as the tip slips inside. Consent might be sexy, but I crave this.
“You’re so fucking beautiful here.” His thumb swipes through the already slick ribbon of my flesh. “Mila.” His whisper sounds awe filled as he rubs my arousal between his forefinger and thumb. “So sweet,” he adds, sucking those digits into his mouth.
How do I feel that so viscerally? “Fin, please.”
“Show me where you need me, love.”
My hips begin to buck, meeting his movements.
“Here, is this the spot?” he purrs, bringing my wetness to the soft rise of my clit.
It feels so desperately dirty like this, pressed against the door, half-undressed, my underwear stretched wide between my legs.
“You like that, my wife? Does that feel good?”
“Stop playing.”
“I’m not playing, love. I’m making dreams come true.” His whisper is hoarse as he pressures and pets, as he swipes and swirls, as he steals my breath, making my body shake. “Such a good girl, getting yourself off on just my thumb.”
“More . . .” My fingers still tremble as I reach for him. “I need more.”
“You need me to kiss you here? Suck on this clit? Do you need me to fuck you with my tongue until you come on my face?”
“Yes!” My answer leaves my mouth in a tight, tiny sound. “Please, Fin. Please.”
“Then when I kiss you later, you can taste yourself. Because you get off on that, don’t you?”
I roll my lips together to suppress a moan, his gaze dragging liquid fire across my flesh. The pictures his words paint slide another layer of sensation to the experience as he presses his tongue to my swollen clit.
“Oh, God, yes!” My hips meet his tongue as he licks and laps, and he sucks, not to savor but to devour.
“There’s my good girl. My sweet, filthy girl.”
I cry out, relief and sheer bliss washing through me as Fin whispers such wicked words, such filthy things.