Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I’d take care of myself tomorrow.
Slay dragons tomorrow.
“Please,” I whimpered.
My hair was still damp from the shower, though Elliot had mostly towel dried it. He’d washed every inch of my body, lathering the sensitive peaks of my nipples but moving away from them the second my breathing accelerated. He’d been careful not to get my bandage wet, although it was slightly awkward.
I’d let out a low moan as his deft fingers worked shampoo and conditioner into my hair, blinking at how much dirt went down the drain. I hadn’t realized how caked in mud I was until I’d come out of the shower clean.
Elliot had done the same with the towel as he had with the soap, drying every inch of my body like he was going to be graded on it. He had kneeled in front of my pussy, leaning forward to inhale deeply, hands on the back of my thighs as he did so.
My entire body swayed at the intimate act, his nose brushing right against my sensitive clit, the barely there touch already enough to thrust me to the edge of climax. But he’d leaned back again, gazing up at me with a sinful smile. He’d parted my legs in order to fully expose me, for him to brush his fingers upon the skin that felt swollen and hungry.
My hand clamped onto his shoulder, bracing myself before I toppled over. Elliot used his other hand at my hip to steady me.
Using his fingers to part me, Elliot laid his lips on my clit, tongue ghosting over the bud.
My nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, likely hard enough to hurt, to leave a mark, but I couldn’t control myself. I felt wild. Desperate. My muscles were wound so tight, I thought something in me might snap if I didn’t come.
“Please,” I gasped.
Elliot’s mouth left me, and I almost cried. “Please?” he repeated. “Please what, Calliope?”
I licked my lips, hating and loving the man in equal parts for his exquisite cruelty. “Please let me come.”
Begging. I was begging him. Except he was the one on his knees.
Elliot’s fingers dug into my hip, the others playing with me almost casually. But I knew every ministration was precise, him expertly knowing my body, understanding just where, with what pressure, to touch me.
“I like that.” He leaned in again, mouth moving with torturous softness. Not enough pressure. “Hearing you ask for it.”
I wanted to scream in frustration.
“But not yet.” He rocked back on his heels. “I don’t think I’ve made my point.”
He pushed up from the floor, leaving me wide-eyed and slack-mouthed at his refusal. But I wasn’t frozen in place for long since Elliot yet again gathered me in his arms, our naked skin pressing together.
Even though I was practically mad with desperate, sexual longing, my skin warmed in contentment as Elliot tucked me into his chest, both of us smelling like his soap. Simple bar soap, nothing fancy, yet the smell was so complex and comforting that I knew it was imprinted into my scent memory forever.
Every single one of my neurons was on fire, the fabric of his bedding grazing my naked body as he set me down on his bed.
He stood above me, taking in every inch of my naked form. I didn’t miss his pause on my arm, the wrinkle in his devoted hunger. It didn’t last longer than a second, then his finger was trailing the shape of my nipples.
My back arched upward, aching for his touch, for friction, for anything. But he merely traced the shape with a teasing touch, drawing a line to the other then down my navel.
I gasped as his fingers dipped between my legs then through my folds. My body welcomed him, hips undulating to help obtain the pressure I needed.
Elliot’s finger stopped, his eyes meeting mine. “No moving.”
Again, I could’ve cried from need, in desperation. Yet the notion of disobeying him was impossible. I stilled my hips while his fingers made lazily insertions, probing all the right places, almost the right way but falling back the second I felt the telltale tightening of pressure at the base of my spine.
I didn’t know how long he kept me there, at the edge, writhing, panting, pleading.
“Please.”
My breath was hoarse, my body already covered in a thin film of sweat despite my recent shower.
Elliot’s body stiffened, and he came into stark focus. All of his muscles seemed to be defined even further, the cords in his neck so pronounced they seemed to be made of stone. Elliot might’ve been pushing me back-and-forth from the edge, torturing me, but he was torturing himself too. His lust for me was etched into every part of my skin.
“Please, Elliot,” I whispered.
His fingers left my pussy, but before I could protest, his body covered mine, cock poised at my entrance, pressing against my pulsing core.