Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
He seemed to watch me forever, to stare and stare and stare.
Then I sucked in a deep, shaky breath, and a groan escaped him.
He lowered then, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth.
I arched up off the counter, a deep moan escaping me as my hand slapped to the back of his neck, holding him to me as he sucked and sucked and sucked before releasing me with a little pop.
He slid across my chest, repeating the process, making need ignite in my veins.
My hips rocked shamelessly, trying to find friction, trying to get relief from the clawing ache between my thighs.
But Perish seemed content to stay just where he was, his tongue flicking, circling, his teeth grazing, biting, his hands squeezing, fingers rolling.
I felt worshipped.
Precious.
Desperate.
My breath felt caught just beneath my ribs. My skin was too hot, too tight, too sensitive.
But he just kept licking, sucking.
His hands, though, started to slide, to tease over my ribs, my hips, the bare sides of my thighs since my skirt had hiked up around my waist when he’d lifted me up and dropped me down.
It was a barely-there brush, fingertips skimming, and my focus was split between his hands and his mouth.
But then his hands grabbed my knees, pulling them up, butterflying them open on the countertop.
And, yes, God, yes.
“Please,” I whimpered, too far gone to care how shameless I was being, how desperate I sounded.
I wanted this.
I wanted more.
I wanted him.
I wanted everything.
“Please,” I whimpered again, hips writhing.
A rumble moved through Perish. We were close enough for me to feel it vibrate through me as his forehead pressed to my skin, his face nuzzled between my breasts as he exhaled hard.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
There was one moment where my blood froze, where I thought he might have come to his senses and was going to pull away.
But then he was sliding down.
His hand moved between us, grabbing my panties, pulling until they ripped.
My dress, my panties, my desire—
I was in pieces.
And I never wanted to be whole again.
Perish’s arms slid under my legs, pulling them over his shoulders as he buried himself at the juncture of my thighs.
My breath was too fast, too shallow.
My head felt light.
Then his gaze cut up to mine.
Somehow, I saw my own desperate need reflected there.
For just a second.
Then his head ducked.
His tongue slipped out, slid up, circled.
Suddenly, all I was was a bundle of nerves, of need, of sensation.
A choked moan escaped me.
A deep groan escaped Perish as his hands tightened on my thighs.
My hand slipped downward, sliding over his head to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping him pressed against me even though he showed no signs of stopping.
My breath went fast and shallow.
I was hot but shaky.
Every muscle tensed.
Soft sounds became deep, ragged moans as Perish drove me up and up and up.
“I…” I started as something tightened deep inside me, twisted, started to snap.
Again, his fingers tightened, bruising into my soft skin.
And another of those rumbles moved through me.
Then all there was in the world was the pleasure that exploded through me, stealing my breath, my voice, my control over my own body as I shook, writhed, rocked.
I didn’t recognize the sound that escaped me. It was something raw and primal. Something that I didn’t think I could be.
Until he brought it out of me.
The pleasure finally released me, and I collapsed back against the counter, panting, vibrating, mindless with the aftermath.
But Perish didn’t move away.
He just shifted his focus.
His tongue leisurely slid up and down me, teasing around that too-sensitive point.
It felt sweet.
Reverent.
And yet…
And yet the ache started to build again, little tendrils of need that spread through my core, expanded through my chest, kept moving until it overtook every inch of me again.
“Perish,” I whimpered, hips rocking, my body demanding more. “Please.”
I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for right then.
But he did.
One of his hands released my thigh, slipping between us, then tapping against the entrance to my body until my fingers were curling, until they were crushing into his skull as the pressure built, as my body recognized exactly what it needed, what he was teasing but not delivering.
“I need…” I panted between shallow breaths.
But he knew.
I didn’t need to tell him.
Two thick fingers slid inside me. Slowly. Like he wanted to savor the sensation as my walls tightened around them, pulling them deeper inside.
A shudder racked his whole body at the sensation as we both seemed to have our minds on the same thing. Not his fingers, but the thick length of him instead, sliding, stretching.
Then he was thrusting. Slow at first. Then harder, deeper, more demanding.
My hips rocked, demanding more.
Suddenly, giving me what I needed, his fingers curled and stroked inside me just as his tongue found my clit again.
The pleasure tightened, coiled.
My body went taut as a bow.