Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Miko’s fingertips slid up the sides of my calves, knees, thighs—deliciously soft, deliberately slow. As if waiting for something.
It wasn’t until his touch reached my hips, and my thighs fell open, that I realized that was what he wanted.
Grabbing my knees, he pushed them up toward my belly as he lowered down. His soft hair teased my inner thighs for the barest of seconds, making goosebumps rise up all over, before his lips were around my clit, sucking it into his mouth with an intensity that made a choked cry escape me as my thighs clamped to the sides of his head.
Too much.
Too good.
Too… everything.
My thighs shook as I slid them over Miko’s shoulders while his lips sucked in a pulsing rhythm that made every muscle in my body tense.
Close. So so close.
But just as I was sure that clawing need would be relieved, his lips pulled away, his head shifted, planting a kiss to my inner thigh as my legs trembled with unmet need.
Too frustrated to think of anything else, my fingers slid into his hair, dragging him back to where I needed him most.
I felt the tip of his tongue moving out, tracing up and down my cleft, tasting me, but refusing to give me the contact I felt sure I might combust without.
If anything, though, the more I whined and whimpered and—yes—even begged, the more he seemed to move away from where I needed him most. Until, suddenly, I felt his tongue fold and press inside of me, the sensation foreign, shocking, intoxicating.
He thrust a few times, dragging ragged sounds out of me I didn’t even know I was capable of.
Until suddenly, his lips were on my clit again in little pulsing sucks as his fingers thrust inside of me, turning, and stroking against the top wall as his tongue finally moved out and started to work me in lazy circles.
I felt completely out of control of my body—and I supposed that was the point. My thighs shook, every muscle in my body tensed, goosebumps rose, my breath panted in and out between soft whimpers that became desperate moans as Miko drove me closer and closer to the edge.
My fingers were fisted in his hair, my hips rising to meet his touch, my thighs clamped to the sides of his head, my heels digging into his back.
“Miko…” I cried, with this strange, overwhelming urge to push him away. It was too much. I wasn’t sure I could take any more.
Seeming to sense it, Miko’s fingers tapped hard against my top wall as he sucked my clit again.
And I just… shattered.
The sound that escaped me was a cry and a moan at the same time as my whole body shuddered hard, every muscle taut as my breath caught in my chest, breathing becoming impossible as the pleasure coursed through me over and over as Miko kept working me with his mouth and fingers, dragging it out until the orgasm finally released its grip on me.
My thighs relaxed, falling open, allowing him to move slightly, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, over my pelvic bone, the hollows of my hips.
I struggled to find my breath, to slow the frantic flickering beat of my heart. My hand rested there over my chest as the aftershocks set in and I tried to wrap my fucking head around what had just happened.
Because, fuck.
I mean, I was no starry-eyed virgin. I’d been with men before. I knew what it felt like when they touched, tasted, fucked.
But this? This was something I’d never experienced before. A connection that had my eyes feeling wet, a pleasure that seemed to tear me apart with its intensity.
Miko’s chin had just planted on my belly, his face angling up to look at me, to likely say something that I didn’t quite feel ready to hear yet. I felt too raw, too pulled apart at the seams for talk.
But just then, there was a shrill ringing—an old landline phone ring—coming from somewhere inside Miko’s suite.
Something about it made him stiffen, made his stupid handsome face go from sexy and self-satisfied to confusion that was quickly chased away by concern.
“I…” he said, but he was already moving away from me, moving off the bed. “I have to get that,” he finished as he nearly tripped over my bunched-up pants on the floor in his rush to get to his room.
And, yeah, that was the cold, hard shock of reality I needed to get a damn grip on myself.
I folded up on the bed, watching him disappear through the adjoining door. Then, quickly, quietly, I rushed off the bed and carefully closed the door so it didn’t make a sound.
It wasn’t until I slid the lock that I felt like I could breathe again.
Was locking him out of my room the most evolved, mature way to handle my very intense feelings right then? Nope. Not at all. But I’d never claimed to be evolved.