⚠️ WARNING: DESCRIPTIVE MAKE OUT SECTION & CUNNILINGUS
...69...
MY MATE👫
He had tried, desperately tried to stay away from her and prevent it all.
The heavens and the earth and everything other single living and non living thing knew that he had tried with all that he had to keep his hands off of her.
Yet, it had not been enough, all of his efforts.
It was beyond him, her and all that she made him feel and he knew.
But he had tried to do all of it just to keep his masculine pride and save his whacking Linamine ego from a severe bruising.
Whang!
Yet it had been beautiful when the inevitable happened.
It has been shocking, explosive, hot and blinding, soul searing.
It has been too long, so long for the both of them, so long since he had kept his hands to himself like when he had married her.
And, it had been extremely torturous.
It has been so long since he had yearned a little desperately for that familiar soothing scent, that familiar sweet taste, those familiar appealing curves.
Wine never depreciated over time: it only appreciated, generously, fulsomely.
And so it was with her now, Cassiopeia, his wife, his only woman, his only mate.
She tasted better, sweeter, more passionate, more demanding and yet... more dangerous than he already knew her to be—his demon mate, Ninotchka.
The eloquent meeting of their lips was humongously explosive, heated, sweetly dangerous and rather pleasing.
The atmosphere grew hotter by several degrees as their souls merged alongside their mouths, ignescent.
He drew her closer to him—his hands around her waist possessive—lifting her against his body to be able to properly kiss her without holding back.
He liked it, that taste, that familiar taste of rose and spice, mild yet striking, causing his blood roar in his ears, beating waves against his heart.
It's sweetness was celestial rousing pleasure.
He savoured it intensely, drunk it in till he was inebriated.
The headiness that came with the intoxication was euphoric.
When she moaned sultrily against his mouth, he lost it to the whacking want that which had succeeded in dislodging from him from the reins of sanity.
He drew back from her lips to look at her properly, caressing her pretty face with his idle fingers.
'Ninotchka,' he said staring at her, his eyes effulgent like a serene moonlit night.
'Come,' she persuaded him, ' come to me Izhxel, my mate.'
That word, that endearment never fail to disorganize his brain.
It disoriented him, left him feeling helpless to her, made her a force majeure.
'I will,' he whispered, ' for I couldn't turn from you, even if I wanted to,' he said.
'Have, have me Izhxel.'
The words touched his possessiveness.
He met her lips halfway—his hands around her neck bringing her there—and kissed her.
This time it was with an astonishing wild abandon that edged brutality.
She melted completely in his arms like butter, molliscent, hot and liquid.
He ravaged her mouth all over again, unable to get enough of that addictive flavour, drawing, morrassing, ensnaring.
It was all her.
She deprived him of his sanity without even doing anything apart from just existing, able to topple his word just by breathing.
Fire spread from their conjunction point, ignescent, into his head, clouding his reasoning.
A tiny purr-like moan escaped her lips at the pure solid pleasure he conjured inside of her.
The sound caused him to harden instantly to rock.
He robbed every inch of her sweet little mouth, taking and taking alone, not bothering to give back.
But that did not bother her, at all, for she let him, encouraging him with tiny moans that awakened his beast.
Finally, his mouth left hers once again, just for a moment she was sure.
And then it was back again, with more vigour, tasting all of the sweetness of her mouth till she almost couldn't breathe again.
Then, he left her, straightening to study her.
She glowed with the pleasure that he brought her; shook ever so slightly with the need that was vividly overwhelming her—all the effect of his experienced mouth.
She stared right back at him, desire burning through her like fire on perfectly fuelled grass, overpowering.
'Ninotchka,' he said to her, 'I missed you, greatly.'
Then he took her lips again, carelessly, fulsomely, just the way that she loved it.
He did so for all the years that he had needed her but could not take her; with primality and that animal like instinct to mate with his other half.
He kissed her collarbones, tasting, his lips straying.
Then her neck came next.
She tilted her head to the left, allowing him more access to the right side of her neck.
He ran his tongue slowly over her brown skin, exquisite.
She moaned in delight and instantly arched up against him.
The frottage made him groan against her skin.
His head dipped to her cleavage.
Fire blazed through her as his mouth met her sweet brown feminine softness again and again.
He ran his tongue over the tops of the soft mould of flesh.
Pleasure overwhelmed her for a moment, weakening her knees as his mouth work ed magic.
She arched to meet his saliva silky tongue which circled her nipples expertly, languidly, delightfully.
'Izhxel,' she purred.
'Shall I stop?' he whispered to her as his mouth returned to her neck and then her ears.
'Don't,' she cooed. 'Don't stop, please,' she pleaded with him.
'I won't,' he assured her softly as he returned to her lips for another wholesome taste of her lips.
Everything in her melted from his assault.
A need so primal, so fervid and so all consuming engulfed her totally as fire, scorching hot and warm roared to life in her.
It burned from her lips, down to her esophagus, then into her duodenum and straight to her core.
It alighted a new kind of fire in her—a thick liquid kind of fire that wetted the insides of her thighs.
It awakened a morrassing decadent sort of emotion that weakened her completely.
She clung to him like a thirsty whore, welcoming his kisses and loving ministrations to her very pliant body.
The smake of his lips felt quintessential, somewhat tantamount to survival.
He kissed her with careless abandon, the intensity of his kiss overwhelming.
She in turn responded with the same equal fierceness.
He cupped her buttocks with his large palms, lifting her against him.
The upward frottage did wonders, eliciting sweet raring sounds from both.
She wrapped her legs around his waist as tight as she could -so that there was no vacuum between their hot sultry bodies.
She arched her body into his, pressing her soft moulds against his hard chest.
He groaned at the unexpected contact.
Her nipples beaded, hankering.
He carried her that way, all the way into the bedroom without breaking the kiss.
He set her atop his escritoire—not before he swept his large hands over it, sending the papers, the stationery and what nots atop the table to the floor with a twang that went unnoticed by both of them.
She parted her legs, in love with the new position.
She went ahead to draw him into the groove that was in between her thick thighs with her hands around his waist.
His right palm came to the back of her head to tilt it just enough for him to gain undenied access with his fingers tangling in her rather long oxblood hair.
'Oh Ixhxel,' she whimpered softly, her voice coaxing as he began to kiss her neck, the caress turning her mush.
He planted kisses across her collarbones, softly and slowly, cherishing.
She moaned as his lips glided over her skin several times.
His mouth dipped to her full breasts.
He began to outline them with his tongue and then his fingers, fondling and caressing them expertly, kneading gently.
The intensity of her moans increased alongside his erection.
He circled her breasts with his tongue, sucking on her large areola.
She purred sweetly, dangerous sounds that shutdown his entire thinking faculty and threatened to drive him over the edge before it should.
He traveled lower, across her belly to the dip between her thighs.
He went on one knee and began to kiss her foot, caressing her toes softly.
Her pleasure heightened the more he went, going upwards, cherishing and marking her feet from toes to thighs.
'Pretty,' he murmured against the insides of her thighs, his voice slightly echoing to her rather than repetitive.
She gasped as his fingers began to stroke her petals.
'Wet, so wet,' he whispered. 'You are so wet for me, sweet Rose.'
He raised his eyes ever so slowly to meet hers from his position.
She met them, those intense nigrescent gaze.
He lifted his fingers–that were wet with her core juice–to his mouth and took a wholesome smack.
Sensations travelled down the length of her spine at the speed of light.
A moan left her lips.
She watched him, turning several degrees hotter.
'Sweet,' he muttered, informing her before returning to her heated core.
She moaned as his fingers stroked her folds, expertly.
'Izhxel,' she moaned.
'Shall I stop my sweet Rose?' he asked her even when he already knew her answer to that.
'No,' she said sharply. 'No,' she said in a more needy voice.
She groaned as his mouth came down and replaced his fingers.
'Oh sweet lord!' she murmured as his tongue slid back and then forth over her sex ever so slowly.
She grabbed unto his hair with her neck arching backwards and eyes shut tight in pleasure.
'Mmhm,' she moaned repeatedly as he increased the pace slightly.
He tongued her tenderly, bringing her intricate delight.
She gripped his hair tighter for support with her legs spread apart as a really wild feeling began to run rampage within her.
She cried out in pleasure as he started to slide his finger into her slick silky opening.
And when he added yet another finger, going in slowly, she shuddered and whimpered vehemently from the sensation, an overwhelming mess.
The dangerous cries of pleasure and delight that she produced did wicked things to him and his body.
He moved his fingers in her cocoon, guiding them in and then out, retreating ever so slowly, heightening her headiness.
She purred shutting her eyes as the dangerous sensations washed over her.
He stoked her lazily, tenderly, languorous exotic strokes that made her head hang back, her eyes shut tightly in pleasure, her mouth opened, moaning shamelessly, releasing sounds after sounds that nearly made him spill his seeds.
His pace increased little by little until his fingers were pumping faster in and out of her as she cried his name loudly in his ears, begging to be let over the edge.
And how he so wanted to let her, to see her do so.
'Izhxel,' she breathed his name shakily.
And then she came, thick creamy warm liquid flowing from her, coating his large fingers.
He replaced his fingers then with his mouth, lapping at her juices and stimulating her core to bring her to a full release.
She shuddered, crying out once again and breaking into tears as her full orgasm hit her.
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...OmaPhinaPhire🔥
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Hi there Lovelies!
This is yet another annoying and mean cliffhanger right?
But, I can't help it.
And yes, this book would be on hold till the new year season.
My reason is that, I might be too busy with the yuletide preparations and all, and I don't wanna raise your hopes for an update.
Don't worry, I promise to spam y'all to make up for the lost time.
Well, anticipate more chapters of the book after the holiday season.
Anyways, don't forget to add this book to your reading list and spam it with comments.
Thanks for coming this far and I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed this book.
I still remain @OmaPhinaPhire🔥
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