Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Look at me.”
I hadn’t realized I closed my eyes until his command. Slowly, my eyes slid open, and I peered at him from under my lashes.
“How is that?” he asked.
I licked my lips, swallowed, and nodded. “Good.”
Although I guessed from the devilish glint in the dark depths of his gaze that he didn’t need an answer. “What color are you at?”
“Green.”
“Good.”
His hands returned to my knees and roved higher, taking my skirt with them. The higher they went, the lower his eyes dropped like they would meet in the middle to take me all in—at eye level—with nowhere to hide.
My breath hitched, and I clenched my fists. No one had been eye level with my pussy before and the thought of being so exposed with fluids making me embarrassingly wet sent my anxiety soaring.
Which, in the end, only increased my need.
Fuck. I was losing my mind.
Before he reached my core, he stopped mid-thigh and grabbed another clip. Confused, I bounced my attention between his lowering head and his hand holding the innocuous wooden tool. His mouth latched onto my flesh and sucked and laved until I couldn’t stand it. As soon as he popped off, he pinched my skin and attached a clip.
Holy fucking fuck.
A sharp pain shot up the inside of my thigh, pulling a shocked cry from my parted lips. After a few seconds, the pinch simmered to a warm ache.
He continued up my thigh, repeating the process with another clip and another. Once one leg was decorated, he moved to the other. My hips thrust under each new sharp bite to my flesh, only serving to tease me more when my skirt brushed against my wet sex.
By the time he placed ten clips in total, I’d collapsed to my elbows—each gasping breath escaping as a whimper. I wanted to beg him to get rid of my clothes rasping against my sensitive skin and make me fucking come. I needed it.
Still, he dragged his hands higher to my hips, digging his thumbs into the hollows so close to where I needed him to be.
“Please,” I breathed unwillingly. I hated the begging tone but hung on a precipice I hadn’t known existed.
With a smirk, he shoved my skirt aside and held my thighs apart. Cool air caressed every wet inch, from where it dripped down my thighs and between my ass. My brows pinched, and I closed my eyes, too scared to watch his face as he took in my wet core.
“Such a perfect little pussy,” he muttered deeply. His thumbs rested along my lips and stroked up. “So fucking needy and wet.”
“Yes,” I gasped, beyond caring about my desperation—beyond caring about anything.
“Look. At. Me.”
I pried my eyes open and looked down past my flushed nipples and my stomach rising and falling over gasping breaths, to between my clipped thighs where his dark eyes waited.
His curled lip was my only warning before two fingers pressed against my opening and shoved in. My jaw dropped and a sharp moan broke free. They pushed deep and curled, pulling out and thrusting back in. Over and over, he repeated the process, his eyes bouncing between his hand, my nipples, and my wild eyes.
When I was sure it was too much, when whispers of my mind threatened to intervene, he removed a clip from one leg and then another. With his lips and tongue against my flesh, he took away the pain and increased the pleasure all at once. With the last clip, his thumb collided with my clit, and I almost screamed.
Time ceased to exist as pleasure rippled from head to toe just under the surface, threatening to tear me apart. My nails dug into the wood of the desk, searching for anything to hold onto—anything to hold me to reality.
Then he added a third finger, stretching me painfully wide as he stood. He towered over me, never stopping his slow, sensual swirl around my bud. His gaze dominated mine, demanding I not look away. I was so entranced that I missed his other hand moving to the clip on my nipple and releasing it.
Blood rushed back to the tip, and he dropped his mouth, sucking and laving the tender bud. I slapped a hand over my mouth to cover the scream, coming apart with the sharp, painful relief.
But that was only the beginning, because next, he unclipped the other and brushed his thumb across my clit in quick motions that matched his tongue flicking across the newly released nipple.
I lost it.
I tipped my head back, stretching my neck, gasping for air, while searching for anything to hold me to earth—anything to tether me to reality as I exploded and floated away.
His hand never stopped curving inside with the swirl of his thumb. His tongue and lips alternated between my breasts until everything became one. My mind blanked into a blissful numb I never wanted to leave. No present, no future, no past. No control of my own, but a trusting belief that he would bring me back.