Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
As the aftershocks subside, I ease out of her, lowering her gently to her feet. She sways slightly, hands braced on my chest for balance, a sated smile curving her well-kissed lips.
“My turn,” I murmur, sinking to my knees before her.
Her eyes widen as she realizes my intent, breath hitching in anticipation. I lift one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her to my hungry gaze. She’s glistening and swollen, the evidence of her arousal and my possession painting her inner thighs.
I lean in, inhaling the heady scent of her, letting it fill my lungs and fuel my desire. Then I put my mouth on her, licking a broad stripe up her slit, savoring the taste of her mixed with the faint saltiness of my own essence.
She gasps, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the slick shower walls as I begin to devour her in earnest. I use my lips and tongue to worship her, alternating long, slow licks with targeted flicks against her sensitive clit. Her hips buck against my face, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything I’m giving her.
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just so, stroking that spot that makes her see stars. She keens, a high, desperate sound that echoes off the bathroom tiles and sends a fresh surge of blood to my painfully hard cock.
“Aries,” she pants, my name a benediction on her lips. “Oh God, don’t stop...”
I double my efforts, sucking her clit between my lips as my fingers pump relentlessly into her dripping core. Her thighs begin to tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of staying upright. I wrap my free arm around her hips, holding her steady as I push her closer to the edge.
“Let go, Lil,” I urge, words vibrating against her most sensitive flesh. “I’ve got you. Just let go for me.”
With a choked cry, she does, her second orgasm ripping through her with stunning force. I groan against her, the spasms of her release triggering my own without even touching myself like a fucking teenager. I pull back just enough to watch her fall apart, committing the sight to memory, branding it into my brain.
As the last tremors fade, I press a final, gentle kiss to her center before rising to my feet. She sags against me, boneless and sated, a dreamy smile on her face. I hold her close, supporting her weight as the water continues to cascade over us, washing away the evidence of our coupling.
“That was...” She’s apparently at a loss for words.
“Yeah,” I agree, knowing exactly what she means. “It was.”
We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other, basking in the afterglow. The rest of the world, with all its complications and ugliness, feels far away, held at bay by the steam and the spray and the bubble of intimacy we’ve created.
But reality can only be ignored for so long. A sharp knock on the door shatters the illusion, Arson’s voice calling out with impatient annoyance.
“If you two are finished, we have things to discuss.”
I sigh, pressing a kiss to Lilian’s forehead before reaching past her to shut off the water. “To be continued,” I murmur against her lips, a promise and a plea all in one.
She nods, eyes dark with understanding and unspoken emotion. We disentangle slowly, every slide of skin on skin a renewed temptation to ignore the intrusion and lose ourselves in each other again. But the moment has passed, the real world crashing back in with jarring insistence.
I step out of the shower first, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist before handing another to Lilian. She takes it with a grateful smile, drying off quickly and efficiently, all traces of the wanton seductress from moments ago hidden beneath a mask of composed detachment.
It’s a skill I recognize all too well, the ability to compartmentalize, to tuck away inconvenient feelings and desires behind a facade of control. I’ve spent my entire life perfecting that mask, wearing it like armor against the expectations and machinations of my family.
But with Lilian, the mask feels flimsy and transparent. Like she can see right through to the broken, angry, wanting parts of me that I try so hard to hide. It’s unsettling and exhilarating in equal measure, the idea that someone might know me so completely, might accept those dark corners without flinching.
I shake off the thought, focusing on the task at hand. Namely, dealing with my brother and whatever new complication he’s about to introduce into our already tangled web.
I dress quickly, not bothering with underwear or socks, just pulling on my jeans and T-shirt with sharp, efficient movements. Lilian does the same, slipping back into her own clothes, damp hair leaving wet patches on the thin fabric.
We exit the bathroom together, a united front against whatever waits on the other side of the door. Arson leans against the far wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he takes in our flushed faces and general state of disarray.