Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“Not now.” One corner of his mouth tilts up and he slips his hand between my thighs and brushes his thumb near my clit. “It should give you a little extra stimulation.”
“You realize you’re already stimulating all on your own, right?” I glance at it again. “But I’m extremely curious.”
He lets out a long, slow breath that almost sounds like relief. “I was hoping you might be.”
Curious, scared, excited…hell, I can’t name the emotions coursing through me fast enough.
Brave girl that I am, I stare up at him as I wrap my hand around his cock and squeeze. He inhales a shuddery breath.
Gripping him tight, I drag my hand down his length, feeling him pulse under my fingers.
And then I’m stopped by another piece of metal glinting on the ridge of his glans.
“That one should give us both something extra,” he explains in a rough but slightly amused tone.
“Aren’t you just a carnival ride of fun surprises,” I murmur, still staring at it. “Does that one hurt?”
“No.”
I’ve never been so intrigued and turned on at the same time. I’ve seen pictures of special piercings before but never one live and in person.
My thumb hovers over the tip of his cock. “Can I touch it?”
“Yes.” He lets out a strangled groan. “Please, do all the touching you want.”
He’s warm and hard under my fingers but his face holds my attention. Watching bliss spread over his intense expression intoxicates me more than any substance ever could.
I keep stroking, careful not to touch either piercing.
“Fuuuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back, his hips bucking forward.
The green mark on my wrist flares warmer, a subtle throb that matches the rhythm building between us, woven into every gasp, every slide.
Slowly, I work my way to the tip and brush my thumb against one end of his piercing.
He sucks in a slow, shuddery breath.
Still stroking him, I ease myself down until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my legs brushing his. I flick my tongue against the tip. Taste his warm, silken flesh, then wiggle it against the smooth, silver metal of the piercing.
He groans low and rests one hand on my shoulder.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, and I’ve certainly never tried with someone who had such an intimate piercing. Exploring leisurely, mindful where I place my teeth, I take him into my mouth.
I flick my gaze up, admiring him, even though I’ve already fawned over his body plenty in the short time we’ve known each other. At my mercy, he’s even more magnificent. Shadows from the fire crawl over his skin, catching on the ridges of muscle and the dark lines of ink.
The horse across his ribs turns its head, flanks quivering as if it knows what’s happening and can’t quite bear to watch.
Whoa.
Am I losing my mind?
I freeze, my eyes locked on the shifting ink. The chain coiled around his bicep tightens, the links flexing like muscle before easing again.
Declan’s fingers slide into my hair, sweeping it away from my face.
“Emery?” His voice is low with concern. “You okay?”
I take my mouth off of him but keep stroking him with my hand.
“Your tattoos move,” I say. “I swear the horse turned away from us.”
His body stills, his hands still holding my hair.
“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice rough and solemn. “Sometimes they do that.”
The answer freezes me for half a heartbeat.
“If it freaks you out, we can stop. I get it.” He closes his hand over mine—not to pull me away but giving me the option. The tension in his shoulders says he’s sincere. “We can stop right now.”
That’s the last thing I want. Unable to articulate how much I want him, I stick out my tongue and wiggle it against the tip again.
He groans and tugs my hair. “Emery.” He drags my name out like a warning as I suck him into my mouth, pausing when the barbells click against my teeth. “I’m serious.”
I release him with a soft pop of my mouth and smile up at him. “Glad we’re on the same page there.”
Curious, I scoot back and kneel up on the mattress, bracing my hands against his chest, careful not to directly touch his tattoos. “I have a question, though.”
The poor guy’s standing there with his gravity-defying, bejeweled hard-on aimed straight at me, and here I am ruining the moment with a Q-and-A session?
“What’s that?” he asks with the patience of a gladiator.
I lift my arm, the green light rippling over my skin. “Am I going to end up…marked…um, everywhere?”
He exhales hard but meets my eyes without flinching. “Honestly? I don’t know for sure.”
I blow out a breath, appreciating his honesty. He could’ve lied, but that’s not the Declan I’ve gotten to know. Lying and manipulation aren’t his style.
I take in the gorgeous lines of his body and his intricate, sometimes mind-bending artwork. The piercings my lady bits are demanding we vigorously investigate. We fooled around last night and while the mark climbed up my arm, it didn’t appear on any other places where we touched.