Read Online Evgeni (Siberian Ambush Book 1) by Lolita Lopez - Free Book Online
Authors: Lolita Lopez
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the outline of the red patch with his tongue, smiling as he felt her shiver. While Celia writhed and issued throaty moans, he spent a little time on each spot, moving slowly down her body until he was kneeling between her legs and dragging his tongue across the wax mark just below her navel.
He could smell the musky scent of her arousal mixed with the taint of wax and saw that her labia were still swollen from the double orgasm denial he had forced on her. Grabbing a damp washcloth, he gently wiped away the traces of their earlier coupling, removing the wax and latex scent that disagreed with him and leaving her pristine for the tasting.
Never again, he thought, his mind already racing ahead to the next time and the next and the next that he intended to have her. No more latex. No more barriers. He would have her as nature intended—to hell with the consequences. He didn’t want to think about how she would fight him or raise merry hell about his plans to keep her. Not now. Later, he decided. He would figure out all of the details later.
Unable to contain his urge, he pressed his face between her thighs. She squealed at the sensation of his nose pushing against her inflamed clit, and with a pump of her hips, silently urged him to lick her into abandon. Intoxicated by her earthy smell, he traced her nether lips with his pointed tongue but avoided her clit. He would save that for the very last moment. He wanted her to be desperate with need.
With broad tongue strokes, he lapped at her labia and flicked his tongue at her now-dripping opening. Hands on her thighs, he tongue-fucked her pussy, savoring the tangy flavor as she mewled and arched atop the duvet. Finally, he sucked her plump clit between his lips, rolling his tongue across the bud before releasing it. Almost manically, she ground her pussy against his face, silently begging him to give her release.
For better access, he grasped her knees and draped them over his shoulders before slipping two fingers into her well-lubricated passage, tilted them up and pumping. The more she squirmed, the harder and faster he moved his fingers. His lips and tongue continued their assault on her clit, and he mixed up the sensations by gently teething the quivering bud after every nine or ten strokes.
When her pussy started to spasm, he went wild on her clit, frantically moving his mouth side to side. Celia screamed an incoherent string of Spanish curse words as she came, her legs flexing and toes digging into Evi’s shoulders. He greedily ate her pussy as if it were an exotic and juicy succulent fruit, taking and tasting and imprinting her scent in his memory forever.
While she trembled and panted, Evi wiped his mouth on a clean washcloth and began tidying up the room, ignoring his engorged cock. For the better part of five minutes she seemed completely unaware of his movements. The sound of ice water dumping into the sink garnered her attention and she sat up on the bed, her eyes hazy with pleasure, her skin still marred by the wax play.
Evi took in her disheveled state for a second before speaking. “I suggest you rest until I have everything set up for our next game.”
“Next game?” she repeated with a hint of apprehension.
Smiling devilishly, Evi strode to a door on the other side of the bed and flung it wide. “Tell me, Celia. Have you ever been strapped to a spanking horse?”
Chapter Eight
Celia heard squeaking wheels and then saw an ominous black leather contraption being pushed out of the closet and into the center of the room.
Oh shit.
It didn’t take much coaxing to convince her to mount the spanking horse, however—not that she really had a choice. Built in the style of a gymnastic vaulting horse, the sturdy contraption was shorter and boasted two angled and padded benches for knee rests lining either side. The leather hump she straddled was just long enough to brace her torso, leaving her bottom suspended just over the edge—a prime position
He could smell the musky scent of her arousal mixed with the taint of wax and saw that her labia were still swollen from the double orgasm denial he had forced on her. Grabbing a damp washcloth, he gently wiped away the traces of their earlier coupling, removing the wax and latex scent that disagreed with him and leaving her pristine for the tasting.
Never again, he thought, his mind already racing ahead to the next time and the next and the next that he intended to have her. No more latex. No more barriers. He would have her as nature intended—to hell with the consequences. He didn’t want to think about how she would fight him or raise merry hell about his plans to keep her. Not now. Later, he decided. He would figure out all of the details later.
Unable to contain his urge, he pressed his face between her thighs. She squealed at the sensation of his nose pushing against her inflamed clit, and with a pump of her hips, silently urged him to lick her into abandon. Intoxicated by her earthy smell, he traced her nether lips with his pointed tongue but avoided her clit. He would save that for the very last moment. He wanted her to be desperate with need.
With broad tongue strokes, he lapped at her labia and flicked his tongue at her now-dripping opening. Hands on her thighs, he tongue-fucked her pussy, savoring the tangy flavor as she mewled and arched atop the duvet. Finally, he sucked her plump clit between his lips, rolling his tongue across the bud before releasing it. Almost manically, she ground her pussy against his face, silently begging him to give her release.
For better access, he grasped her knees and draped them over his shoulders before slipping two fingers into her well-lubricated passage, tilted them up and pumping. The more she squirmed, the harder and faster he moved his fingers. His lips and tongue continued their assault on her clit, and he mixed up the sensations by gently teething the quivering bud after every nine or ten strokes.
When her pussy started to spasm, he went wild on her clit, frantically moving his mouth side to side. Celia screamed an incoherent string of Spanish curse words as she came, her legs flexing and toes digging into Evi’s shoulders. He greedily ate her pussy as if it were an exotic and juicy succulent fruit, taking and tasting and imprinting her scent in his memory forever.
While she trembled and panted, Evi wiped his mouth on a clean washcloth and began tidying up the room, ignoring his engorged cock. For the better part of five minutes she seemed completely unaware of his movements. The sound of ice water dumping into the sink garnered her attention and she sat up on the bed, her eyes hazy with pleasure, her skin still marred by the wax play.
Evi took in her disheveled state for a second before speaking. “I suggest you rest until I have everything set up for our next game.”
“Next game?” she repeated with a hint of apprehension.
Smiling devilishly, Evi strode to a door on the other side of the bed and flung it wide. “Tell me, Celia. Have you ever been strapped to a spanking horse?”
Chapter Eight
Celia heard squeaking wheels and then saw an ominous black leather contraption being pushed out of the closet and into the center of the room.
Oh shit.
It didn’t take much coaxing to convince her to mount the spanking horse, however—not that she really had a choice. Built in the style of a gymnastic vaulting horse, the sturdy contraption was shorter and boasted two angled and padded benches for knee rests lining either side. The leather hump she straddled was just long enough to brace her torso, leaving her bottom suspended just over the edge—a prime position
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