Page 137 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
I shivered, but some of the delight withered when the angle dipped me a little farther into the water.
My paddling feet connected with something solid and squishy.
Alistair.
“You’re still safe, Pippi,” Alistair said as I dragged my other foot onto…whatever body part I was standing on. “But if you ever feel not…safe…tell me to stop. Okay?”
“Okay.” My overfull heart struggled to stay afloat over the flood of affection, and excitement, and nerves, and…everything.All the vibrant emotions pulsating through both of us.
“Good,” Alistair rasped.
His tongue wormed up my legs, the tip gyrating over my clit. Stroking gingerly—so, so gingerly.
Stars…
I arched back, one hand clenching the rock, the other paddling frantically through the water.
Alistair explored. Slowly. Lazily. Fondling every inch of my body he could get his tongue on and lavishing that sensitive bundle of nerves until I strained and panted.
My pleasure rose to a frighteningly fast boil. It stole my breath. Made my vision go all bright and fuzzy.
“Oh, Alistair.” I arched my back, heaving, when he applied enough pressure to have me seeing stars. Zaps of ecstasy electrified my blood, bringing me so, so, so very close to boiling over.
His arousal answered, spiking into me with enough force to steal my breath.
We were feeding each other. Alistair and I.
The more pleasure he gave me, the more aroused he got.
The more aroused he got, the more pleasure I felt.
It was intoxicating.
Had iteverbeen like this before?
He dragged the bristles of his tongue over my legs, my butt, my clit. Letting me feel the prickling sting. Then he quieted the movements, soothing the light scrapes he’d left.
My head swam. And the heat inside my belly wrapped into a painfully tight coil. Ikeened.
“Lovely,” he murmured.
He turned his tongue in long, lazy strokes, alternating between light and hard pressure. Soft and scraping.
My poor body was so confused.
The pleasure was unlikeanything.It blacked out my mind. Made me see stars. Everything fell away—the waves, the rumble of the ocean, the harsh bite of the stone under my hand, the cold claws of the water. The world shrank to that sensitive bundle between my thighs, and the way itthrobbedbeneath Alistair’s tongue.
The coiling pressure in my belly mounted to an uncomfortable burn.
I strained for release. Reaching for it. Moaning as Alistair dipped his tongue between my legs, fanning the heat, the ache, until I was ready to explode.
But the release wouldn’t come.
I grunted. And bucked. And cried. Frustrated now.Worried.
I was dangling over the edge. But I didn’t know how to fall.
“Relax, Pippi,” Alistair murmured as I flailed, chasing the release, and crying as it escaped before I could reach it.
