Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
I leaned in until our mouths were inches apart, summoning every ounce of bravery I had. “I’m not here to make you believe one thing or another.”
His hips jerked and the fingers at my breast pressed into my flesh. “Then what are you here for?” he asked, voice thick and soft.
I swirled my thumb over the tip of his cock, smiling when air hissed between his clenched teeth. “If I have to explain that, then obviously I’m doing something wrong.” I squeezed him, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the roll of his hips that sent water splashing against the sides of the tub. “But I don’t think that I am.”
Prince Thorne’s lips parted, but he said nothing as I continued to stroke him, just as slowly as his finger moved inside me. Through half-closed eyes, I watched him closely. His breathing picked up, coming in short, shallow pants. So, I alternated between smooth slides and tighter, slower tugs, but the controlled plunges of his finger made it difficult to focus on anything but that.
“I think you owe me an apology,” I panted, muscles low in my stomach quivering.
“For what?”
“For being wrong about me.”
“Perhaps.” He groaned, cock twitching in my hand. His fingers splayed across my breast and then found their way to the nape of my neck.
Each thrust of his finger, he went a little deeper, a little faster. Then it was his fingers, stretching me as his thumb swirled around my taut clit. I tried to rein it back. All of it. The way I moved. My reaction to him. The soft, breathy sounds I made. My body. The pleasure, and my hunger for it. My need. This wasn’t what I was here for. I slowed, throat dry as I struggled to remember my whole purpose for being here, but I was so thrown by the . . . the realization that I wanted this. Badly. Wanted more.
I shouldn’t. At least, I didn’t think that I should, but I . . . I did. I was enjoying that it was I who was the cause of his breath quickening. That it was my touch that brought forth those deep, rumbling sounds from a Hyhborn prince as I worked his flesh— as he did the same to me. A fluttering sensation low in my stomach and even lower. I wanted to be doing this.
Just as I had wanted to get in the tub.
To be touched.
To touch.
It had to be because I was simply touching another— giving pleasure and experiencing it without taking their thoughts or prying into their futures. And it was that, but it also felt like something more. I didn’t know what or understand it, and that scared me. I could feel it building inside of me, a rising tide of desire that threatened to overwhelm my senses— every part of me. I tried to hold back, to rein myself in, but it was like trying to hold back the ocean.
“Don’t fight it. Give in to what your body wants,” he coaxed. “Give in to me.”
I shuddered, surrendering to his demands— to the demands of my own body. I gave myself over to the moment, rocking against him, my hand faster now, his fingers harder now. Muscles coiled low inside me, tauter and tauter until the tension bordered on pain. Until I began to tremble.
“That’s it,” he growled, his body straining— his body humming against mine. “I want to feel you come on my fingers, na’laa.”
His pupils . . . they went completely white as I began to tremble. Then all that tightening, swirling pressure erupted. I came, crying out as all that tension unfurled in a molten hot flood of desire as his shaft swelled against my palm. The release was sharp and stunning. Waves of sensation crashed through me as . . . as his body seemed to heat against mine, so much so that my eyes fluttered open even as the swirling pleasure rippled throughout me.
His pupils glowed intensely, like polished diamonds. They were so wide that I couldn’t see any of his irises, and his body was humming, lending an almost blurred effect to the outline of his shoulders. He dragged me against his chest, his arm going around my waist, holding me tight as I gasped into the crook of his neck. The feel of his flesh against my breasts sent a myriad of unexpected sensations darting through me. I lost my rhythm on his cock, but he didn’t seem to notice as his hips pushed against my grip, sending water splashing over the rim of the tub. His cock jerked, spasming, and the sound he made as he came heated my blood, leaving me feeling as hot as his body now felt against mine.
The aftershocks of pleasure left me limp against his chest, my breathing ragged. Resting my cheek on his shoulder, I followed the lead of his body, slowing my movements as the spasms eased and then finally lifting my hand from him. I didn’t move away from him, though. His fingers still danced and teased, coaxing out a fainter ripple of pleasure before he slowly withdrew his fingers from me. Eyes closed, I still didn’t move as he folded his other arm around me. I didn’t know why he did this, but I . . . I relaxed into him. There was something unexpectedly soothing about his warm embrace, comforting. It made me want to . . . to snuggle closer, into the heat of his body.