Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
The sound Daisy makes is fucking electric. It’s not even a word, just a guttural, broken moan that shakes her whole body. She bucks up off the mattress, nails clawing at the sheet.
I lap at her again, holding her pinned with both hands, spreading her wider. She tries to twist away, but I don’t let her. I want her open and raw, nothing held back.
I work her clit with my tongue, slow at first, then faster, circling, sucking, giving her everything I’ve got. I keep checking her face, soaking in every twitch, every bite of her lip, every second she’s struggling to hold it together.
She’s wet, dripping, and the taste of her could absolutely ruin a man. My cock is so hard it actually fucking hurts.
She attempts to clamp her thighs together, but I dig my fingers in, holding her spread apart. My thumbs press into the grooves where thigh meets hip, keeping her wide open for me.
That’s when I slide two fingers inside her wet opening. She’s hot and slick. I scissor my fingers open, and she absolutely loses it. Daisy screams my name, straight up to the ceiling, voice cracking on the second syllable.
God. That sound. It nearly makes me come just hearing it.
She’s shaking, heels braced hard on my shoulders, shoving me in closer. I’m not going anywhere. I crook my fingers just enough to find the spot inside her, using my free hand to keep her anchored. My tongue never lets up, lapping at her clit, relentless, hungry, never giving her a break.
Her whole body starts to tense, thighs trembling, stomach tight as a drum. Her hands aren’t even hands anymore, just claws on the sheet, wrenching it in knots.
She tries to jerk away again, hips lifting off the bed, but I clamp down, refusing to let her escape the pleasure. If she’s going to shatter, it’s going to be right here in my hands, with my mouth wrecking her.
She whimpers, high-pitched and helpless. Then louder.
My name, half-growled, half-sobbed, fills the room. I growl back, nipping at her, and she shakes harder.
I can feel every pulse, every desperate little quiver. My fingers are soaked, slick heat gathering with each stroke. I curl them, scissoring just a little, wanting to see how much she can take.
She takes everything I give her and then some.
I can tell she’s close. Her whole lower half seizes up, thighs like steel traps on either side of my head. She’s whimpering now, endless, shameless, desperate. Her body’s fighting to close up, but I keep her wide, tongue working her clit while my fingers fuck her slow, deep, perfect.
Every time she tries to lock her legs, I grip her harder.
She drags a hand off the sheet and grabs for my hair, yanking tight. It hurts, but I love it. She’s not pushing me away, not even close—she’s anchoring, holding on for dear life. I groan against her, the vibration making her jerk and moan even louder.
The tension hits a breaking point. I swear I can hear her heart pounding. Then Daisy explodes.
She screams, the sound bouncing off the ceiling and echoing around the tiny room. Her whole body goes rigid, muscles clenching down hard on my fingers, thighs shaking uncontrollably against my jaw.
I keep going, working her through it, tongue never stopping, fingers curling faster, grinding my palm against her.
Her voice cracks on my name, and she chokes out a sob, then another. Every part of her is shuddering, breath coming in wild, desperate gasps, like she’s drowning in it.
I keep my grip tight, forcing her to ride it all the way out, not letting her legs close or her hips twist away. When she slumps back, finally spent, I press soft kisses to the inside of her thigh, gentler now, letting her come down slowly.
She’s limp, splayed on the bed, chest heaving. Her hand stays twisted in my hair, nails dragging along my scalp, but she’s not trying to move me. If anything, she keeps me right where she wants me.
I kiss her one more time, right at her center, then look up, just to see her totally fucking wrecked. God, she’s beautiful like this. Flushed, wild, ruined for anyone else.
This is what I wanted. This is what I’ll never get tired of.
I stand, ignoring the creak in my knees, and slide in beside her. I wrap my arms around her, anchoring us both, because if I let go, I might float right the fuck away.
But I’m not letting go. Not now, not ever.
She’s still shivering, body scattered across the sheets like she survived a natural disaster. I push up on my elbows and cage her in, hungry for another taste of that wrecked, wild look in her eyes.
But I can’t get enough of her. Not with just my mouth. Not with just my hands.