Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
It tastes delicious, and I can’t help but moan.
They gargle in my throat along with the wine when we share the equivalent of a glass with our mouths as the only utensils.
“Don’t spill a drop, printsessa,” Nero murmurs as he licks up a droplet of wine from my bottom lip. “I’d hate for your sexy little shirt to get stained.”
With a confidence I’m still learning is okay to explore, I grip the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head.
Nero’s hiss is as good this time around as it was when I wasn’t wearing a bra.
His response makes sense when I lower my eyes to the bra he’s edging as ruefully as his sexy face edges my horniness. The lace of the cups leaves nothing to the imagination, and the alluring baby-pink coloring adds a touch of sexiness to a usually bland palette.
“Mm,” Nero moans, doubling the output of my heart. “Rosy and pink, just like your nipples.”
He bites one of the said nipples through the scant material covering it before he rolls it between his teeth and tongue. Then, just as I’m about to beg, he pulls down the cup and doubles the stiffness with the coolness of the bottle’s rim.
“Not a drop,” I murmur when he tilts the bottle, bringing the liquid inside to the lip.
My knees knock when cool, fruity liquid rolls down my left breast half a second before Nero licks it up. His tongue is wide and enticing, and when it swivels around my nipple, it sends a current of electricity straight to my clit.
The coolness of the stainless-steel wall oven gives relief to my overheated skin when Nero follows the weave of a felonious droplet of wine. He tracks its movements down my stomach and its hazardous careen over my belly button before he catches it at the waistband of my skirt.
Goddamnit!
My fret is unwarranted.
“I’ll buy you another one,” Nero says two seconds before he shreds my skirt off my body, its flimsiness no match for the strength of his tug.
As my skirt sits tattered on the floor, he homes in on another defying droplet, its trek even more dangerous than its counterpart’s.
It has slipped further down my body, almost to the waistband of my skimpy panties.
They’re too scant to absorb the droplet and incapable of ignoring every heated breath that leaves Nero’s mouth when he discards the wine bottle, his selection made.
My heart skips a beat when he hooks his index finger into the delicate edge of my panties before he slowly pulls the material away from my body.
He assesses me slowly and dedicatedly before his eyes float up my body. I’m panting hard and on the verge of hyperventilating when I realize how many lights are on in my kitchen, but he looks at me as if I am perfect—and I almost believe him.
“I so fucking wish you could see what I’m seeing right now.”
He growls, and my hips jolt. I moan when my jerk forces his nose to mash with my over-sensitive clit, and then I grunt when Nero loses all sense of control.
He spears his tongue between the folds of my pussy, doubling the shake of my thighs, before he drags it up to my clit.
A desperate squeak pops from my lips when he hits the nervy bud with back-to-back strikes.
With a handful of licks, he brings me to the edge so fast that I feel dizzy.
I won’t fall. Nero’s grip on my ass assures me of this, not to mention the leg he curls over his shoulder to open me more to him.
He distributes half my weight to his body and the other half to his tongue when he forces a flood of euphoria to race to my lower extremities from the expertise of his eating skills.
As his relentless pursuit to have me seeing stars ramps up, my hips instinctively roll. I grind my pussy against his mouth while his tongue demands the full attention of my clit.
“Give it to me, printsessa.” Excitement zaps through me, his deep, rumbling voice enough to push me within an inch of the finish line. “Come on my face like a good little wifey.”
Just the thought of him thinking I’m a good wife sees me losing the battle not to climax in a shamefully quick minute.
I buck like a bull while moaning his name in a mangled cry.
Tingles dance across my face while a tsunami wreaks havoc with my womb.
I can’t stop coming, and Nero can’t stop singing my praises.
He tells me how delicious I taste and that he’s never sampled a more scrumptious meal. That he didn’t think it was possible for me to get even more beautiful, but I defy the odds every time I come.
He builds me up so well that instead of crumbling into pieces when I come back from the lust cloud he forced my head into, my confidence grows along with the strength of my orgasm.