Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
People think not being able to speak impedes communication, but in times and places like this, everything can be translated through touch and expression. I keep looking down into her eyes as I trail my hand lightly up her thigh toward the nexus of her desire. Her pussy lips are swollen and puffy from Conroy’s rough ravaging, but that just makes them more sensitive, and this gentle handling is making her yearn all over again.
The sound she makes when my fingers finally slide up the length of her soft, furred sex is also devoid of words, but tells me everything I need to know.
I tease her, toy with her. I let her see my enjoyment of this careful exploration, and I let her feel that I am in no rush to claim her. Conroy may consider himself the sole alpha, but there are more ways to be in control than just roughly rutting a female. He is a creature of force, and though she clearly responds to it on some level, it’s not all she wants.
I avoid the ravaged entrance of her body, a place already quite brutally stretched by Conroy’s knot, and instead I focus my attention on her hard, hungry little clit, circling slowly at first, inviting her hips to dance for me in the soapy water.
Her face gets pinker, her breath comes shorter. She reaches for my wrist and holds me in place, silently begging me for more and more touch. She could speak if she wanted to, but she has joined me in the quiet and I feel a deep connection being forged, or maybe simply acknowledged in this moment. She belongs with me. To me. And I belong to her.
I press my fingers more firmly against her clit and circle faster. She starts to pant and beg with her eyes. Her gaze is locked on me, completely connected. I look back, not wanting to bring her to climax too quickly and have this moment end.
“Noooo…” She mewls the word as I move my fingers away for a moment, giving her a break, stroking down her swollen pussy lips, caressing her more gently and more widely.
Her little whine earns her a slight tightening of my grip. I lift an eyebrow just a little. It is a subtle expression change, but it settles her down, just as I intend it to. I’ll teach her patience through slow degrees. I’ll subdue her without being aggressively forceful. She’ll feel my strength in the small, subtle things, and I already know she will respond.
“Please?” She whispers the word, almost as if she is afraid to give voice to it, as if speaking in my presence might be breaking some taboo.
I show her that it is not by sliding my fingers back to her greedy clit and returning to the strumming motion she enjoys so much.
The pattern repeats several times. I bring her close to climax, then let her settle down, watch her writhe and wriggle and even complain in my grasp, always waiting until I decide she is due for more pleasure.
Finally, I take mercy on her, I rub her sweet little clit with the pads of my fingers with an insistent motion that demands her orgasm. I can command her body without a single utterance, and she responds like a well-trained mate.
She comes for me with pretty gasps and moans, her hands splashing the water as she reaches for my wrist and then for the side of the bath and then my shirt. Her mouth is hanging open in erotic desperation as her stomach muscles clench, her toes curl, and every part of her body is focused on reaching the peak I have both driven her toward and kept her from.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” she curses over and over, her voice sounding tight and desperate as she climaxes, pressing hard against my fingers, shaking from head to toe, and flushing bright pink with the unmistakable telltale signs of orgasm.
“Oh, my god,” she pants. “Oh, my god. Fuck. Oh, god. Damon…” She rests her wet head against my chest and clings to my shirt for several minutes, getting her breath back and enjoying the orgasm she very much deserved. I give her little kisses and reassuring rubs down her back, releasing her hair and eventually returning to the task of helping her bathe.
It’s not the same as mating her with my cock, of course, but that can wait. For now, I am satisfied with giving her pleasure, and while she finishes bathing, going back for her clothes and folding them and getting them ready for her to change into.
“Thank you so much,” she says when I return. “You’re the best. If I tell you something, will you keep it to yourself, or will you tell those other two?”
She’s dried and getting dressed now, pulling her bra on and snapping it in place. I like this little intimate moment, which in some way feels almost more connected than the rough sex Conroy subjected her to.