Ravished (The Teplo Trilogy #1) Read Online Free
Author: Ayden K Morgen
taste her, to spread her wide and dive head first into her honey-coated folds until she came on his tongue.
How long had it been since anyone had turned him on so effortlessly?
He didn't know, but watching her was hypnotic. Tension melted from her body as she moved, her head tilted back and her lids half closed. She moaned, bucking her hips into his hand, pressing her body closer to his. Another wave of lust speared through him when she delved her hands into his hair and tugged hard as if to keep him right where he was… right where she wanted him.
"Does the rest of you taste as sweet as your skin, Lillian?" he whispered, thrusting one finger deep inside of her. Her inner walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper, almost seeming to welcome his finger into her as if welcoming him home.
She was tight. Wet. Perfect.
"Oh God," she groaned.
He settled for adding another finger to the first instead of dragging her off of the dance floor and burying his head between her legs as he truly wanted to do. Her pussy clenched around him as he twisted and plunged his fingers inside her. She cried her appreciation into his neck, her lips exploring freely across his throat.
He pumped his fingers into her harder, understanding the overwhelming freedom that came with escape, perhaps better than she did. For long moments, he lost himself in the feel of her. In the way her moans vibrated against his throat. In the heat of her pussy against his fingers. In the way she smelled so sweet.
And then his phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him up short.
His time was up. Paulo Vetrov would be arriving soon.
Fuck.
"I need you to come for me, beautiful," he said, raking his teeth across her earlobe. He wanted to sink his teeth into her throat as she came. He'd never had such an urge before, but it spurred him into making an instant, reckless decision. "You're going to scream my name when you come, and then you're going to meet me here and do the same thing again tomorrow."
He should have told her to run in the other direction and not look back, but he wanted her to stay right where she was. He wanted her to want to stay. Right then, it didn't matter why. All that mattered was this – his fingers buried in her in the middle of the dance floor. It was eroticism and freedom and pure fucking liquid heat, and he wanted more.
"Tell me you'll come back, Lillian," he said, twisting his fingers to reach that spot guaranteed to make her crazy.
It worked like a charm.
She cried out, gripping his hair tighter as her pussy pulsed around his fingers.
"Tell me," he said, easing off – not willing to let her tumble over into bliss until she agreed.
"Yes, I'll come back!" she cried out, her lips still at his neck.
He let go of her damaged leg and grasped her bound hair in his hand, tipping her head backward. Her lust-filled brown eyes met his.
Oh, fuck yeah.
He swooped, devouring her mouth with his own.
When he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, her inner walls clamped down on his fingers again and then fluttered hard. He growled, her pleasure hitting him like a punch to the gut. She screamed as she came, just as he'd told her she would, breathless cries and a plethora of Oh God's rolling from her lips. He stole them from her, plunging his tongue back into her mouth and kissing her until her body stopped shaking around him and she slumped forward in his arms, sated and breathless.
"Beautiful," he whispered into her ear, removing his drenched fingers from between her legs and bringing them to his mouth to taste her. He groaned his appreciation at the scent of her arousal coating his fingers, and damn near came in his pants when he tasted her.
Pure. Fucking. Heaven.
He licked her juices from his fingers, his cock screaming to be inside of her, to fill her as his fingers had.
His phone vibrated again. Reality intruded like cold water poured over his head.
Paulo Vetrov was coming, and Tristan should have been gone no less than ten
How long had it been since anyone had turned him on so effortlessly?
He didn't know, but watching her was hypnotic. Tension melted from her body as she moved, her head tilted back and her lids half closed. She moaned, bucking her hips into his hand, pressing her body closer to his. Another wave of lust speared through him when she delved her hands into his hair and tugged hard as if to keep him right where he was… right where she wanted him.
"Does the rest of you taste as sweet as your skin, Lillian?" he whispered, thrusting one finger deep inside of her. Her inner walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper, almost seeming to welcome his finger into her as if welcoming him home.
She was tight. Wet. Perfect.
"Oh God," she groaned.
He settled for adding another finger to the first instead of dragging her off of the dance floor and burying his head between her legs as he truly wanted to do. Her pussy clenched around him as he twisted and plunged his fingers inside her. She cried her appreciation into his neck, her lips exploring freely across his throat.
He pumped his fingers into her harder, understanding the overwhelming freedom that came with escape, perhaps better than she did. For long moments, he lost himself in the feel of her. In the way her moans vibrated against his throat. In the heat of her pussy against his fingers. In the way she smelled so sweet.
And then his phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him up short.
His time was up. Paulo Vetrov would be arriving soon.
Fuck.
"I need you to come for me, beautiful," he said, raking his teeth across her earlobe. He wanted to sink his teeth into her throat as she came. He'd never had such an urge before, but it spurred him into making an instant, reckless decision. "You're going to scream my name when you come, and then you're going to meet me here and do the same thing again tomorrow."
He should have told her to run in the other direction and not look back, but he wanted her to stay right where she was. He wanted her to want to stay. Right then, it didn't matter why. All that mattered was this – his fingers buried in her in the middle of the dance floor. It was eroticism and freedom and pure fucking liquid heat, and he wanted more.
"Tell me you'll come back, Lillian," he said, twisting his fingers to reach that spot guaranteed to make her crazy.
It worked like a charm.
She cried out, gripping his hair tighter as her pussy pulsed around his fingers.
"Tell me," he said, easing off – not willing to let her tumble over into bliss until she agreed.
"Yes, I'll come back!" she cried out, her lips still at his neck.
He let go of her damaged leg and grasped her bound hair in his hand, tipping her head backward. Her lust-filled brown eyes met his.
Oh, fuck yeah.
He swooped, devouring her mouth with his own.
When he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, her inner walls clamped down on his fingers again and then fluttered hard. He growled, her pleasure hitting him like a punch to the gut. She screamed as she came, just as he'd told her she would, breathless cries and a plethora of Oh God's rolling from her lips. He stole them from her, plunging his tongue back into her mouth and kissing her until her body stopped shaking around him and she slumped forward in his arms, sated and breathless.
"Beautiful," he whispered into her ear, removing his drenched fingers from between her legs and bringing them to his mouth to taste her. He groaned his appreciation at the scent of her arousal coating his fingers, and damn near came in his pants when he tasted her.
Pure. Fucking. Heaven.
He licked her juices from his fingers, his cock screaming to be inside of her, to fill her as his fingers had.
His phone vibrated again. Reality intruded like cold water poured over his head.
Paulo Vetrov was coming, and Tristan should have been gone no less than ten
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