Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
It feels so good to hear all that she says. To know that I have not fallen in her eyes. Maybe soon I will believe the words, too. Perhaps when her wound has healed, and I have her safely in our home.
All thoughts of worthiness and even home flee, though, when her hands begin moving, and the look in her beautiful eyes changes. I suppress a shiver as her fingers trail down my neck, and at the desire filling her gaze right now. With her in my lap, I’m sure she can feel the way my cock hardens beneath her. I sure feel the heat between her thighs, even through her smock, but still, I have the urge to rip her dress to pieces just to see her bare and to have nothing separating her and I.
But my hands stay on her waist because I’m much more concerned with what hers are doing. They continue their slow exploration and I am helpless to stop her. It’s the very last thing I want to do.
“Are you feeling bold?” I ask her just before she reaches the belt holding up my pelt. She works it open.
“I’m not scared,” she replies simply. “I’m not very experienced, but I’m also not entirely ignorant here.”
“I’m only here to do what you want me to, Selina.”
She nods once. “I know, Bo.”
That’s good enough for me. As her hands disappear under the pelt to find the smooth length of my cock, already hard and free, I descend on her mouth. I have little to no self-control as she tickles me with soft fingertips before her warm palms grab my shaft tighter to stroke. Things I haven’t even been able to dream about are happening at this very moment, and I don’t want to blink. Lest it not be real.
But it’s not a dream.
She’s not a dream, even if she is my dream.
“Selina,” I pant against her mouth.
That tongue of her teases mine. “Yes?”
“If you keep doing … that,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry when she squeezes my cock at the tip in just the right way, “I’m going to spill on your hands, or the smo—”
My words cut off with a hiss when she tightens her hand around me again. I have to think far too hard just to remember what I was even saying.
“If you keep doing that, I’ll come,” I grunt out through a grin when she narrows her gaze playfully on me and bites her lower lip. “I’ll come on your hands, mate.”
“And where else?” she hums. “On me, in me?”“
No, that’s what does it.
The little thread of control I have snaps, and what’s left spills into the waiting hands of my mate in warm, ropey spurts. She kisses me again, harder this time, and there’s no teasing in the way her tongue tangles with mine.
“That made you wet for me, didn’t it?” I ask her, still out of breath and waiting to catch it. “Making me weak for you—you like it.”
Selina smiles slyly. “I’d like for you to find out.”
I can already smell it. The taste of her arousal in the very air around me tells the truth, but I’ll give her what she wants, too.
I still tell her, “Oh, I intend to.”
The floor meets my knees as I drop down before her. She helps me drag the smock higher over her thighs until I watch her fingers, still slick with me, slip between.
“Wider,” I urge, hands flexing around her thighs to make my point.
She opens her legs more for me. Enough to show me the slit of her sex and how wet she is as she spreads herself for me. Her hair has been trimmed short, and is silky under my touch, telling me she put good use to certain oils. Hallans, on the other hand, have no body hair but for what grows from our heads.
“Show me how you like being touched here.”
She does, her little breaths growing faster and shakier as two of her fingers sink into her pink pussy, coming out coated in her juices, and she uses that to lubricate the swollen bud she circles with her fingertips.
“Like that?” I ask. “What do you call that, there?”
I press a kiss to each trembling thigh, and then look up at Selina.
Chin trembling and her fingers moving faster, she nods. “My clit.” It’s her soft whimper that finally pushes me up from the floor again.
“May I?” I ask, my lips hovering over hers as my uninjured hand grazes hers.
“Please,” she whispers back. “Please, touch me, too.”
I devour her mouth, reveling in every wet and gasping kiss when my hand replaces hers. She’s as wet and soft as I expect. Tight enough that I hiss at the way she clenches around my fingers at first. Careful about the hint of my claws until she realizes how easily and noisily they slide into her. The pad of my thumb massages the pulsing bud, matching the way she milks my fingers with every thrust and rub.