Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
My face gets hot because even I can smell myself and see the wet spot there that certainly wasn’t caused by the tea he missed lapping up.
“You have a lovely pussy, Bellatrix. So fucking beautiful.”
That makes me laugh. “You haven’t even seen it yet. It might look like the bear of satanic horrors with teeth and hair from the barn.”
“Sounds like a horror movie. The Demon Pussy of Providence.”
My laughter deepens. I never in my life thought I’d be laughing about something like that, especially not with the world’s hottest man on his knees and at eye level with what I personally know is a non-horrifying vagina.
“Just so you know, I’d still be down to go down. She can bite back if she wants. And hair is fine.”
“Argh!” My legs jiggle a little with that squawk. “Nooo, my mind. I’m so sorry I said those things.”
He’s not. He fuses his mouth to my seam right over the fabric, and I. Am. Dead.
“Also, I think there’s something very wrong with you,” I tack on.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, and my skin breaks out in shivers on top of the already-existing shivers. “I think there’s a whole lot of something right with you.”
He picks up the mug again and slowly tips it down my chest without warning. I see it coming, but I’m unprepared for the gush of liquid. Apparently, so is he. Beads of liquid roll down my breasts, over my stomach, and pool in my lap.
I groan. “Shizzle fricks, that was excessive.”
My panties are now soaked from the top too. I smell like the inside of a tea shop. It would be better if it were peppermint or raspberry and not matcha. I love matcha, but it’s an acquired taste.
Without further preamble, even if matcha is not his taste, Rowleigh makes it clear that I am. My panties disappear like he’s a magician. He parts my legs, works with gravity to slide me forward on the counter so the rest of me eases back onto my elbows, and then licks me from my inner thigh all the way to my clit.
“Oh my god!” I gasp.
His tongue traces down my slit and then up, rasping over the carefully trimmed triangle of hair. I wasn’t lying about that part. Just the teeth bit.
He’s like a surveyor, mapping out routes I didn’t know existed. He parts me with one hand, leaking beads of moisture that might not be all tea. I’m drenched, and he’s loud, but he punctuates the sounds with groans of pleasure that let me know just how much he’s enjoying it.
My breath stutters to a standstill, and my head drops back. There’s nothing but him, plying my slick center with his fingers, discovering me, mapping me, and eating me like I’m as delicious as ice cream cake.
There’s nothing more delicious than that, but I’m willing to cede that maybe I’m on par with it for him.
Then again, perhaps he has never tried the ice cream cake from the world’s best ice cream cake store, and we should have gone straight there instead of attempting to get tacos and—
He lashes his tongue against my clit, and my brain stops worrying about ice cream.
He dances away, teasing me and edging me by not giving me exactly what I need. Instead, he kisses and licks my thighs before brushing his nose over my clit as he inhales my pussy.
“You’re delicious,” he pretty much moans. I didn’t know men could moan, but Rowleigh does, and it’s sexy as hell.
The vibration of the noises he makes travels straight through my pussy.
I clutch his hair when he drives down again, parting my folds with his tongue until he dips his tongue into my entrance.
I tug at his hair like he’s a marauding T-rex I just jumped on top of, and I hold on for dear life while he does mythical things to me. Dinosaurs were real. I suppose I mean dragon.
He tortures my clit sweetly with his tongue, and I can’t hold back. I buck against his face, pretty much riding it like I’m a dragon tamer and rolling my hips while he eats me like there’s no tomorrow. I don’t know about tomorrow, but as for things that have disappeared, it’s the counter beneath me, the world around me, and all my objections. There’s only us, and it’s beautiful.
He keeps torturing me, teasing me, and fucking me with his mouth until I’m barely a body, I can’t catch my breath, and gravity and all the other laws of the universe don’t apply to me.
“I’m…g-going to c-come,’ I stutter and pant out, grinding and rolling my hips. I have to clutch the counter, or I’m going to do serious damage to his hair and scalp. “S-so g-good. H-hard. Ep-ic.” My teeth knock together as cold chills rack me.