Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Thanks, bro, sorry about that.” she heard Sam reply. She was still upside down over his shoulder. A few seconds later they were back inside that bedroom they’d slept in the night before and she bounced when she landed in the bed.
She gave him a big smile. His gaze was dark and heated. She felt it right between the legs.
He leaned over and kissed her stomach, where her t-shirt had ridden up.
“I fucking missed that smile and the fire in those eyes so much,” he muttered this against her belly and she squirmed.
“That tickles.”
“Does it?” he looked up with a devilish smile and then ran the back of his hand very gently over her belly and then went into a full on tickle.
Kyla screeched, “No t-tickling! No tick-tickling!”
“Okay, fine.” He stopped and then invited, “Tell me what you do want?”
She got up onto her knees on the bed. He sat, feet dangling over the side, beside her.
“Maybe try feeding me? Food hasn’t been doing it for me, I don’t think. I’m like…starving.”
“You only got a mouthful to wake you so that makes sense. Let’s see.” He bared his fangs and bit down into the heel of his hand. Kyla’s eyes widened.
“Wait, no. Eww. Ick.”
“Too late,” he replied and held his hand out.
She hesitated. He hooked around the back of her neck with his free hand and drew her closer. She looked down at the blood pooling on his palm and took a big breath, leaned over, feeling her stomach rumble as if she’d been staring at a full buffet table, and she tentatively darted her tongue out and leaned forward, dipping the tip of her tongue into the blood that pooled there.
It tasted like sweet grape. Like grape pop but more. Way more. Kids’ grape cough syrup, grape Fanta, purple Crush, and Welch’s grape jelly all fused together? She closed her eyes, pulled her tongue back, licked her lips, looked up into his eyes, something moved between them, something sweet and caring, and protective. She closed her eyes again and dove in, getting suction going on the wound on his hand and feeling it hit her throat was like feeling a gush of sweetness, not tooth-achy sweetness, either. The most blissful taste she’d ever had in her mouth. And this peaceful euphoric feeling swept over her.
His fingers from the other hand dove into her hair, bringing her closer, then cradling her tight against him. She felt his body heat, felt her eyes roll back, her nipples tingle, and flood with warmth. Warmth everywhere.
“Stop, baby,” he said softly.
“Did I take too much?” she asked.
“Naw, but that right there went straight to my fucking cock.”
She released his hand and sank onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling, something that she could only think of as sweet ambrosia in her mouth and she felt giddy.
Tristan’s lips were on hers, his tongue was in her mouth, one of his hands in her hair. Her hands rose up his back under his t-shirt and she pulled it up and off him and then she flipped him and she was on top.
He chuckled, eyes sparkling. Her mouth was back on his hand but the wound had already sealed. She groaned in dismay. He brought it to his mouth, bared fangs, and pierced it again and she dove for it, latching her mouth around the wound. He grabbed the back of her head and then his mouth was in the crook of her throat and he pierced her skin and that’s when everything went insane.
She was drinking from him, he was drinking from her, and she felt like she was fucking flying. Soaring through the clouds toward heaven.
He fumbled to get his pants undone with one hand, letting go of her throat, and then she stopped sucking on his hand and was helping get his cock out and then they wrestled and she was on top, impaled on him. Groaning, grabbing for his hand again and then she was on her back as he pounded over and over and over.
“Harder!” she demanded.
“I’ll hurt you…”
“No. Harder. Fuck me harder!”
He complied and then she felt like she was falling as a crash pierced the air and they slid. The bed was broken and now they were on the floor, tangled up. Arms legs, his cock, her pussy, his fingers raking her ass cheeks, her fingernails raking his back. Her cries and his grunts piercing the air. She giggled and then saw his face. His gorgeous fucking face.
“I fucking love you,” she moaned as they rolled.
“Mm, I fucking love you.” He said.
“I love fucking you,” she cried out, hitting that beautiful peak, feeling the build at her crotch and in her chest and then an explosion of sensations, beautiful sensations, a kaleidoscope of beautiful feelings and colours inside and outside of her.