Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
I walk her backward until she hits the wall, never breaking the kiss. Her body arches into mine, and I slide my hand down to grip her thigh, hitching it up over my hip to press closer, grinding against her pussy.
"Elias," she gasps against my mouth.
Hearing my name like that—breathy, desperate, so much longing—nearly makes me come in my pants. I kiss down her neck, nipping at the sensitive spot below her ear, rewarded by the way she shudders.
I lead her to the sectional, sit down, and pull her onto my lap so she's straddling me, just like last time. But this time, I'm not stopping. Not unless she tells me to.
My hands find the hem of her dress, sliding up her thighs to grip her hips. She grinds down against my cock that's already barbell hard.
"Can I take this off?" I ask, tugging gently at her dress.
She nods, lifting her arms as I pull it over her head, revealing a black lace bra and matching panties. A swift, fierce heat sweeps through me, melting my brain into soup.
"Fuck, look at you," I growl, drinking her in. "So goddamn beautiful."
Her hands move to the buttons of my shirt, fumbling slightly in her eagerness. I help her, shrugging it off and tossing it aside. When she presses against me, skin to skin, I have to close my eyes for a moment to regain control.
"Been thinking about this for days, Elise. About you."
"Me too." Her fingers trace the muscles of my abdomen, making them jump under her touch.
I unclasp her bra, sliding it down her arms, and then she's bare from the waist up, her perfect breasts right there in front of me. I cup them reverently, brushing my thumbs over her nipples, watching them harden under my touch.
"So responsive," she smiles, but her sheepishness drops a hint that I'd better not get too vocal.
I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently, rolling it between my lips, then with more pressure when she moans.
"Elias…"
I switch to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while my hand slides between us, pressing against the damp lace between her thighs.
"Already wet," I growl against her skin. "Is this all for me?"
"Uh-uh," She grinds against my palm. "Just—," she pauses, presses down, "— for you."
I slip my fingers beneath the lace, finding her slick and swollen. Fuck, my self-control is fraying thread by fucking thread. Elise buries her face in my neck, muffling moans as I stroke her slowly. "I want to taste you," I say against her ear. "Let me taste you, Elise."
She pulls back to look at me, eyes wide and dark with desire. For a moment, I think she might say no—might think this is all moving too fast—but then, she nods.
I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Every part of you is so fucking beautiful." Her shyness triggers something inside me. Reminding me to submit to her hesitant cues and to be gentle. Her pace, not mine.
I take my time, kissing up one thigh and down the other, watching her squirm with anticipation. When I finally lean in to taste her with a broad stroke of my tongue on her slit, she makes a sound that goes straight to my cock—half gasp, half moan.
When I focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves at her clit, sucking gently while sliding a finger inside her, she breathes out.
"Elias, oh God. Mmm. Please don't stop."
I don't stop. Not when her thighs begin to tremble, not when her grip on my hair tightens to the point of pain, not when her words dissolve into incoherent sounds of pleasure. I don't stop, don't relent, determined to give her everything she needs. Her hips buck harder. In an irregular rhythm, seeming to have a mind of their own. I flatten my tongue on her clit.
"Come for me, Elise. Let me feel you come on my tongue."
That pushes her over the edge. Her body goes rigid, then shakes with the force of her release, her inner walls clench around my fingers, her tasty juices flood my mouth. I work her through it, lightening my touch as the aftershocks ripple through her, until finally she pushes weakly at my head, too sensitive to take any more.
I press one last kiss to her inner thigh before sliding up to join her on the couch. She immediately curls into me, still trembling, her face and chest flushed, her eyes dazed.
I'm still painfully hard, but I don't care. This moment—her in my arms, sated and soft and weak-limbed—is worth everything.
We lie there for a long time. Her breathing gradually returns to normal. I stroke her hair, her back, unable to stop touching her.
Finally, she tilts her head up to look at me. "You didn't..."
"This was about you," I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I needed to show you what you do to me ... what you mean to me."