The Illegitimate King / Friday Night Mistress. Оливия Гейтс
me. Cup yourself, Clarissa, tight. You’re burning now.” She was. And she couldn’t bear it. “Slip your hand inside your panties, spread your lips open. Now slide your fingers through your flowing nectar.” She did, keened, trembling on the edge now. His voice thickened, became harsh as gravel. “You’re melting, empty, losing your mind, unable to breathe with the hunger. I can see you, Clarissa, quaking on the edge of release. I can scent your need. I can feel your heart stampeding, your body tautening, your core demanding me.”
He stopped, drew in a shuddering breath.
Her lips trembled on a smile. He was as affected as she was, as distressed. His breath, when it rushed out, felt as if it filled her, the stimulus that almost tipped her over. She waited, needing it to be his words that did.
“But this stops here, mia magnifica. Anything more, you’ll have to come get it.”
Everything stilled, froze. The world. Her body. Her heart.
“I’m flying back to Castaldini as we speak.” His voice was crisp and distant all of a sudden, all intensity and intimacy evaporated. “I had to tend to some business, but I’ll be back in my mansion within the hour. You’ve gone a long way toward convincing me. I expect you to continue your…persuasion, then.”
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