Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
He grips a fistful of my hair and holds me still, just enough that I know he must be at war with himself. This isn’t the way things are done in the Cosa Nostra. There are unspoken rules about the wedding night. In our world, that means being demure and lying on your back missionary style while your husband takes your virginity. But I’m tired of being demure, and I have a long list of things I want to do to him.
His thumb drags across my lips, softly plying them apart before he presses it inside. I close my eyes and suck, nipples tightening as he bites back a low groan. He cradles the back of my skull beneath his large palm, pressing my head down like I’ve imagined him doing with his cock.
“Is this what you want, bella?” His voice is velvet laced with sin.
I try to nod, but he angles my head back, his thumb sliding free of my mouth. It goes without saying that he requires a verbal response.
“Yes.” I wipe my chin with the back of my hand. “I want to taste you.”
“Then do it.”
Those gravel-edged words feel like a match strike against my skin.
I reach for him with trembling fingers, working without sight to slip the button on his trousers free. When I peel down his zipper and the fabric gives way, anticipation thrums through my veins. I feel my way around his briefs and then press my lips to his arousal.
Another rough exhalation falls from his lips, and I bathe in the glow of it. I want to collect every one of those sounds and keep them in a box for later.
When I grasp the band of his briefs, he shifts his hips and allows me to drag the material down. That’s when my exploration begins. I trail my fingers up his shaft, soaking in every detail. The pulsing throb. The weight of him as I take him into my palm. The soft velvet skin that makes me shudder.
I stroke him a few times, and every muscle in his body tenses as he cradles the back of my head. He isn’t directing me, but rather, gliding his fingers through my hair. It sends goosebumps scattering over my arms like a million tiny sparks. It feels incredible, and I’m captivated by how the smallest touch from him can make my body come alive.
In return, I dart my tongue out and lick him from base to tip. His hand tightens reflexively in my hair, and I know I must be doing something right.
I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock and lap up the small bit of liquid that’s gathered there. He’s so hard it must be painful. I want to relieve him of that ache.
I slide him further into my mouth, and a low, guttural sound catches in his throat. It rushes through my veins like liquid heroin, and suddenly, my only goal in life is making him do that again.
My jaw stretches to full capacity as I push him further into my mouth. He twitches as I gag a little bit. I can only liken it to deepthroating a baseball bat because that’s what it feels like. It takes me a bit of experimenting to figure out how much of him I can actually handle. But I’m no quitter, so I keep at it, falling into a natural rhythm once I find the sweet spot.
Slowly, I feel the tension melting from his body as I suck him. In my mind, I can only imagine how we must look right now. Me kneeling before his throne, head bobbing up and down as I worship at his altar of masculinity.
His fingers press into my skull as I hollow out my cheeks and suck hard. A tremor pulses through his body, and he lets out a low curse. That’s when he halts me.
“Soon, cara… I’m going to fuck your mouth full of my cum and watch you swallow it. But not tonight.”
I feel the loss of him as he pulls himself free from my mouth, and my head lolls against his thigh. His palm settles on my head with a quiet dominance, and we linger there as he pets my hair. It feels almost…reverent. But without seeing his face, I can’t know for sure.
After a few moments, he drags his thumb across my bottom lip and brushes away the wetness left behind.
“Stand up and take off the rest of your clothes,” he commands. “I want every inch of you bare when I’m inside you.”
That primal declaration sends a bolt of white-hot pleasure right between my thighs, even as my chest constricts. It isn’t an empty promise. The treaty requires as much from us.
I rise from the cushion on shaky legs and do as he asked. Shimmying out of my thong first, I set it aside and then unclip my bustier. I hold it against my chest for one last fortifying breath before I drop that too.