Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
“I like your sweetness on my tongue.” He licks his fingers for emphasis, then pushes two inside. “Wider,” he says, nudging my legs apart.
I moan and grip his shoulders because that’s all I can do. Hold on.
His fingers are thick and meaty, as strong as the mort himself, using only the amount of restraint he thinks I require, his fingers pounding into me. He works with a singlemindedness that’s infectious. There is only the deep thrust, then slow drag until the pads of his fingers brush against the front walls of my cunt, dragging the first feral scream from my throat as I’m suspended on the precipice of an orgasm. He fixes his tongue on my clit, sucking the throbbing bundle into his mouth as he repeats the thrust and drag. It’s the combination of the two that has me succumbing to a pleasure so acute it’s almost violent.
When my eyes refocus, I find him dragging his pants down and off, flinging them over his shoulder and beyond. He crawls up my replete body, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. This alien likes that he knows how to please me. Likes it so much he wants more.
And I want nothing more than to give it to him.
Give him everything.
I take him into my arms, relishing in the feel of his weight on top of me, my cunt aching to be filled. I draw him close with one leg and meet his kiss, tasting myself on his wicked, wicked tongue. For someone who doesn’t talk much, he sure knows how to use it.
“I like the way you scream,” he says against my mouth.
But I have no time for words. The brush of pleasure has ignited something more inside me. A fire without end. I grip his shoulders and wrap my other leg around his strong hips. The bulbous head of his cock slicks through my folds, ripping a gasp from my dry throat.
“My mate wants my cock.”
I nod, but I don’t know if he sees me. Nothing seems to make sense. There’s only the urge for completion, fulfillment. I strain to fit him inside me, but he evades me.
I open my eyes and glare at him.
He smiles, a true smile tinged with the same wildness I feel coursing through me. If I weren’t so needy and desperate, I would have been overjoyed.
“Don’t smile at me, Draven. Yes, I want your cock. Please.”
“This is what I want to hear.”
He surges forward, filling me so completely, my retort is forgotten as my brain stutters to a stop. It should be impossible for something to feel better than his fingers and tongue working in tandem, but his cock filling me, thrusting deep and hard, is a pleasure that’s immeasurable.
Wanting to make him lose control, to see that wildness overtake him, has me gripping him tight against me. I pull him down until I can kiss him again, taste our combined flavors and get drunk off them. I give him everything I have, sucking, licking deep, and exploring the strong expanse of his back and chest with my hands. I knead and scratch at his sweat-glossed skin, accepting each of his sounds of pleasure with my mouth.
His thrusts snap harder but are still tempered by control, still tamed. For someone who always seems to be controlling himself, getting him let loose is near impossible. I throw everything into seducing him toward the edge. I kiss him with wild abandon, spreading my legs in explicit invitation, causing him to groan.
“I want you. I want all of you like you have me.”
The corded muscles in his throat stand out in relief. When he speaks, his voice vibrates with the effort to control himself. “When you take my pleasure, Molly mate, you will be unable to move for some time. I won’t hurt you.”
I soften beneath him, wrapping him fully in my arms. “Is that what you’re worried about? I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.” I’m not sure what he means by not being able to move, but I know he’ll be there for me, whatever happens.
It’s as though my words unlock something inside of him. He rears back and grips the backs of my thighs in his hands, pinning my lower body to the bed by the force of his grip. His thrusts are powerful and all-consuming. Sweat beads at his forehead and rolls down his cheeks as he chases his own pleasure.
“You first,” he grunts.
He says something, but I don’t know what it is. Seeing him lose it is more intoxicating than the strongest orgasm. Mine roars up from the ether and consumes me. All I can focus on is the swell of the wave, building, threatening to crest and take me under.
I grapple underneath me for something to hold onto, something to ground me because I know when it happens, it’s going to obliterate everything.