Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
With a carnal curl of his upper lip he pushes the head of his cock in.
I let out a gasp, my eyes pinching shut as I face forward, head hanging above the floor. I knew he was big, but even as wet and ready as I am from the aftereffects of my orgasm, he still doesn’t feel like he’ll fit.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hisses, his grip tightening. “Breathe, lavender girl. Breathe.”
I inhale deeply through my nose, willing my body to relax.
“That’s it,” he rasps, “you can take a little more.”
I want to tell him that it’s easy for him to say, but I can’t speak, can only concentrate on my breath coming in and out, my body finally letting him slide, slowly, all the way in until he’s all I can feel.
“You can take it. Good girl.”
His encouragement unfurls something inside me, a need to be praised, to be told that I am, in fact, good. Even if it’s because I can handle the size of his cock in this position.
“How does that feel?” he asks, his voice throaty and raw, and I let out a soft whimper as my body adjusts, as he slowly slides his cock in and out, pausing for a moment before pushing it back in, deeper than ever.
I gasp, my fingers trying to grip the rug. “Good,” I manage to say, trying to catch my breath.
He lets out a rough grunt. “Good isn’t good enough. Not when it comes to you.”
Then he leans down, his damp chest pressed against my back, his cock pressing against every sensitive nerve inside me. Then he reaches forward and wraps his hand around my throat, pulling me back into him so that I’m on my knees. He squeezes my throat lightly, just enough to hold me, and slips a hand down between my thighs.
His fingers slide over my clit and I moan, the vibrations flowing up my neck and reverberating against his palm.
“How about now?” Andor asks, his mouth at my ear, biting my earlobe before licking up the rim and making me shiver.
I swallow against his hand, his grip strong, possessive, enough to hamper my breathing a little but not take it away. He holds me there in place and starts to rut into me, pumping his hips against my rear, making my body tremble and shake from the impact.
All the while his fingers make the knot inside me grow tighter and tighter, gliding around where I’m so very wet and slippery. He keeps his mouth at my ear, his breath raspy as he tells me how good I feel, how he wants to do this forever, how I belong to him, how badly he’s wanted me.
And I can’t even reply. I’m lost to the sensation of him inside me, of giving myself over to him so completely. At this moment my body belongs to him and I am so thoroughly his that it’s as if his heart beating hard against my back has joined with my own. And maybe after this moment I’ll go back to belonging to myself, I’ll be able to be whole, but right now…
I’m his, I’m his, I’m his.
Not just my body but my soul.
“Oh fuck!” I cry out, suddenly taken over by my orgasm, a crashing wave that makes me feel obliterated, inside out, and trembling on my knees as I lose control. If he didn’t hold my throat just so, I would collapse straight to the ground.
He comes shortly after, with a hiss and a deep groan, spilling deep inside me as he whispers my name.
“I needed this,” he says through a shaking breath as he finally pulls back, letting me go. “I’ve needed you. Just like this.”
I make a sated noise of agreement and collapse on all fours, my head hanging down as I catch my breath and my body comes back to normal.
“I needed you too,” I say, quietly, because the admission feels so raw right now, so vulnerable.
But from the way he plants kisses along my shoulders and down my spine, I know I’m still safe with him.
The question is, how long will that safety last?
Chapter 22
Andor
The world has changed when the morning rolls around. My senses have always been heightened because of the suen, but I’m starting to think that Brynla is her own kind of drug. The air smells fresher, feels warm like a midsummer morning, the straw mattress softer; the sound of her steady breathing is like hearing the fairest music. I feel as if I’ve been elevated to a higher state of being and it’s all because of her.
You’re in over your head, I chide myself as I carefully adjust my position on the narrow bed, not wanting to wake Brynla up. Her body is naked, her back against mine, and in the dim light of her room, lit only by a flickering torch that is running out of fuel, her lavender hair spills around her like a sunset turning to dusk. The sight of those scars from all the pain she endured at the convent mixing with her beauty makes a violence rise up inside me so tightly that I can barely breathe.