Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
He’d barely reached my knee when I had to admit that he’d accomplished his goal.
My body felt overheated, yet goosebumpy, and there was this deep pressure in my core that made it hard to think of anything but the relief of it as my thighs pressed together to try to ease the ache between.
Until Atlas’s fingers were drifting up the inside of my knee, making my legs shamelessly fall open once again, inviting more.
He was happy to oblige, his fingers tracing the same path up to the innermost part of my thigh.
Then, making a jolt of desire course through me, teasing the line where my panties met my thigh, following it up to my hip, across my belly, and then down the other side.
My hips writhed restlessly, and I watched as Atlas’s eyes blazed at my reaction. Like he, somehow, was turned on by my desire, not just by what I could do for his.
Gaze on me, his hand shifted inward, his fingers barely grazing the wet material between my thighs.
A low, throaty moan escaped me at the barely-there touch, making Atlas suck in a greedy breath, then tease his fingers over me again. And again.
Until, finally, what felt like several tormenting hours later, his fingers pressed against me, giving me the friction and pressure I was aching for.
My hips rocked into the touch as his thumb started to work little circles around my clit through my panties, creating a fire that flared through every part of me.
His own breathing was almost as frantic as mine, and I became fascinated by the way a muscle was suddenly ticking in his jaw. His own desire making his body tense.
Still, though, he stayed focused on me, on what he could create in my body.
His fingers left for one tortured moment, making a grumbling sound escape me that had his lips turning up at the corners.
But the disappointment only lasted a moment because in the next breath, his fingers were sliding inside my panties, touching me without a barrier.
The contact of his thumb on my clit had me nearly coming undone right then and there.
“So wet for me,” Atlas murmured, voice thick, as he continued to rub those delicious, small circles.
His other fingers, though, started to slide down my cleft, finding the entrance to my body, and pressing firm little taps against it.
Until I was writhing, until my whimpers became more desperate, almost pained, as the need to feel him inside of me stole any other thoughts from my mind.
Then, little by little, I felt his fingers start to slide inside of me, creating the friction I was so desperate for until his fingers were buried deep.
His gaze shifted from my face, sliding down my body, then settling between my thighs, watching as his fingers started to withdraw, then slip all the way back in, the sensation dragging a ragged moan from my lips as my walls tightened around him.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, withdrawing, then slipping in again.
I didn’t pretend to understand how I could feel good to him when I wasn’t even touching him, but I was too far gone for pesky things such as logic to ruin the heady haze of desire I found myself engulfed by.
All I knew at that moment was the feel of his fingers inside of me, the touch of his thumb working circles.
“Are you going to come for me?” he asked, even as my body tightened, answered him for me. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as my body tensed, as my moans became these airy, desperate sounds I’d never heard myself make before.
Until, like a jolt of electricity through my body, the orgasm crested, making me cry out, making my muscles tense, then spasm as the pleasure gripped my system.
His fingers kept working me through it, dragging it out until I was lax against the cushions, limbless, unable to move, to think, to do anything but feel the frazzled sensation in my nerves, and the way my chest was rising and falling, trying to find a normal rhythm again.
It was then I realized his fingers were still inside of me, a slight fullness I became achingly aware of with each passing second. As my body, somehow, started to climb once again. Without movement. Without any prompting.
Seeming to feel the change, his fingers started to move inside of me, little circles that had my hips writhing to intensify the sensation.
“Come here,” he demanded, voice soft, patting his lap with his free hand.
I expected him to withdraw his fingers for me to complete the task, but they stayed inside of me as he quickly lowered my panties, then as I pushed up to my knees, then lifted my leg to straddle his waist.
His fingers moved faster then as his other hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, then sealing his lips to mine.