Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“There it is.” Pleasure ripples through his words. “You want to know the worst part?”
The room around me spins as pressure coils deep inside me. The need to breathe. The need to come. Every muscle in my body contracts as I arch off the bed, lungs ready to explode. I claw at him, anchoring myself to his strength as if that will save me somehow.
“The worst part is you’ll crave this for the rest of your life.” His words brush against my hair. “And I’m the only one who can ever give it to you.”
The sound of his fingers sliding through my wet arousal is the last thing I hear before ringing pierces my ears. As I free-fall into oblivion, he releases his grip on my throat, and air punches its way into my lungs. My body jerks, electric shocks pulsing all the way down to my toes. The pleasure crests so violently, it launches me into outer space. I’m floating on a cloud of euphoria in a galaxy of stars, completely weightless and strung out.
I can’t stop the sounds that spill from my throat as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me. Time stretches on, leaving me suspended in that space until every ounce of bliss has been wrung from my body.
Ragged breaths fall from my lips as my senses return one by one. Warmth spreads through me as I melt into the bed, completely boneless and thoroughly ruined for anyone else. In my gut, I know he’s right about that. Nobody else will ever be able to give me what he just did.
I’m still trembling when I open my eyes to meet his gaze. Hardness has etched itself into his dark eyes as he lazily palms my breast, triggering another flutter in my belly. Beneath his stillness, there’s a storm—full of fury and barely leashed.
For every action, there’s a consequence, and I knew what mine would be when I betrayed him. That wound lingers like a cancer between us, poisoning his thoughts and hemorrhaging the darkness from his mind.
On an impulse, I shift toward him, face brushing against his thigh. I wait for a rejection that doesn’t come, and after a breath, I start to explore. Palms gliding over the structured fabric of his pants, I press into his solid mass of muscle and heat. He is everything that makes a man. Flesh and bone. Strength and power. Dominance and command.
Hunger unfurls deep in my belly as his fingers slide through the strands of my hair, cupping my skull. The faintest sound of approval vibrates from his chest, and I want to play that sound on repeat while he uses my mouth.
I’m too far gone to see reason as I fumble with his zipper. That lasts all of one heartbeat before he grabs a fistful of my hair and tips my head back. I feel the full weight of his smoldering stare as he drags his gloved thumb over my lips.
Darkness hums between us as he slowly slides his zipper down and releases what I’m quite certain puts every other man to shame. There’s no delicate way to say it. It’s a thick, throbbing, veiny monstrosity of a cock.
With his eyes on mine, he strokes the length, and I choke on my nerves. The mere size of him nearly eclipses my face. I can’t imagine what it would feel like if it were lodged in my throat.
Fortunately for me, he decides to keep me alive a while longer. I watch, fascinated by the sight of him fisting his cock. With every stroke, his muscles strain the fabric of his shirt, giving me a small glimpse of his strength. I want to strip him bare and explore every inch of his primitive landscape.
He edges himself toward release, and I’m enrapt by the sight of it. His roughness. Those ragged exhalations beneath his mask. The way he tips his head back as his body goes rigid. The low, guttural groan that pulls from his chest as he finds his release lights up every pleasure center in my brain.
A torrent of hot cum splashes across my naked breasts, and the shock of warmth feels like a brand. It stirs that ancient instinct in my reptilian brain—the primal satisfaction of being conquered and claimed by the fiercest man in the village.
I wonder if he feels it too as he paints me with his mark, his palm smearing it across my chest. Another spark of pleasure ripples through me when he brings his wet glove to my face and slides two fingers past my parted lips. Salt and leather coat my tongue as I surrender to the craving and swallow the taste of him.
He strokes my cheek one last time, his eyes moving over me as I lie there, breasts bared, thighs soaked. And then, just as soon as he appeared…he’s gone.