Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I try to close my legs and straighten my knees, but he only pushes his palms on my inner thighs and spreads my legs impossibly wider. My muscles burn from the stretch. I’m too open, too exposed. I want to fight, but then he flattens his tongue on my clit, and I’m free-falling.
Oblivion swallows me whole. Like a greedy beast, it catches me between its sharp claws and shreds me to pieces. I’m helpless against the onslaught, my legs shaking and my arms straining in their bonds.
I’m so sensitive, I only need a little stimulation to explode, but Dante knows how to keep me on the edge with soft, languid licks that drive my need higher until I think I’ll die if I don’t come. He dips the tip of his tongue between my folds, barely parting me, teasing me mercilessly as he licks my opening like candy only to deny me what I need by ending with the lightest flick on my clit.
Just when I’m about to beg him for release, he sinks his teeth into my folds, biting into me as if I’m a juicy apple. A cry leaves my lips. The nip of his teeth is sharp on my clit. Unforgiving. The bite of pain skyrockets my need. I’m falling apart in his mouth, my moans of ecstasy and whimpers of pain making him double his efforts.
It’s worse than before. Better. Different. More punishing. More intense.
He sucks my clit deep into his mouth before letting it go with a loud, embarrassingly wet sound. I didn’t give him permission to take off my T-shirt, but that doesn’t prevent him from reaching up and rubbing my nipples into hard points under his palms.
“Do you want to come, darling?”
I mewl an incomprehensible answer when he pinches my nipples, sending another bolt of lightning straight to my core.
He rubs his stubble over my pussy. “I didn’t quite hear that.”
“Y-yes,” I manage on a broken whisper. “Ah.”
“I think you owe me an apology first.”
I couldn’t care any longer. I’ll shout it too. “I’m sorry!”
“That’s my girl.” He plunges a finger inside me, making my inner muscles spasm so hard I almost come.
Almost.
He pulls out and pumps in slowly, working me up at a torturously slow pace.
“Dante.”
“Fuck, yes.” He adds another finger and curls them inside me while rubbing his thumb in circles over my clit. “Say that one more time, and I’ll let you come.”
I breathe his name like a person blowing out her last breath. “Dante.”
He pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his tongue, fucking me how I need it this time.
I come in his mouth with my back arching off the bed, my body being pulled apart in a reverse exorcism. Instead of getting him out of my system, he’s injecting himself deeper into my blood and carving his name into my skin.
I’m still coming down from the violent pleasure when he unzips and takes out his cock. He’s inside me before I have time to catch my breath. Even now, when he holds all the power and I have none, he still respects my wishes. But only as far as my body goes. As for my heart and soul, he doesn’t care about the damage he inflicts.
He fucks me hard instead of gently. As I want, he gives me his depravity and not the soft side he used to save only for me. The punches of his hips are raw and rough, the action stripped of any affection, leaving only naked lust, but at least it’s honest. At least it’s not pretending to be something it isn’t.
He grips my face in his large hand and splays his strong fingers over my cheeks, lifting my chin and forcing me to meet his gaze as he moves his hips faster in chasing after his own release. Our mouths are a hairbreadth apart, our lips a heartbeat away from touching. He taunts me with his power, holding me in place as he lets me understand everything happens at his whim. Not kissing me. Coming inside me.
The pleasure that twists his face is so potent it seems closer to pain. Maybe it is painful. Maybe it’s as powerful for him as it is for me, the pleasure becoming one with pain. Indistinguishable. Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe I can’t separate the emotional pain from the physical sensations any longer. Everything is meshed into one. That’s always been my downfall. I’ve always confused sex and love.
He keeps me immobile, making me take every drop that bathes me inside, finishing with punishing thrusts of his hips that pounds out a steady message. Every punch that slams his groin against my pussy spells a letter. He writes a word inside me without having to give sound to it. Not as much as a groan escapes his lips. His breath feathers hot over my mouth, his amber gaze drilling into mine as he carves that word so deeply the wound will never heal.