Lost King by Piper Lennox (best self help books to read .TXT) 📕

She tightens. Her thighs twitch and jerk beside my hips. I stare at her face and memorize the ecstasy etched there. It’s a memory that’s going to serve me well for plenty of sleepless nights ahead.

I duck my head and press my mouth against the velvet of her ear. God, I could bite into the cartilage forever. It was made for my mouth.

“Tell me to put you over the edge, Ruby.” I trace every ridge with my tongue, twice, before letting my teeth graze. “Beg me to reach between us and rub your clit.”

“Please,” she moans, without missing a beat, “make me come, Theo—rub my clit until I come.” Her hands weaken, releasing my hair and going limp by her head. “I need it so bad....”

“Whoa, now.” I smirk, knowing she can feel it against her ear. “I knew you wanted it, but I had no idea you needed it.”

In any other state of mind, she’d give me a withering look and, maybe, an elbow to the ribs. But riding this high, all she can do is admit the truth. “Yes, yes, I need it...I need you to make me come. Please, Theo.”

Look at that. Good manners and everything.

I reach between us and touch her.

I’ve never had a simultaneous orgasm with someone. Lots of close calls, but never a time where my eyes met theirs, our heartbeats blurred, and the highs brought us up together.

Everything that happens, right now, when Ruby opens her eyes and stares at me.

“Coming,” she breathes.

I nod and swallow so hard it hurts. “Me, too.”

My voice breaks, but I don’t care. It’s not embarrassing. Just more proof she’s got me wrapped around her finger, where I plan on staying for the foreseeable future.

She recovers first. While she works her muscles to pump the last throes of my orgasm out of me, I lavish her ear with more attention, gently flicking her sensitive clit to remind her we’re not quite done.

“Four down,” I whisper.

“You can stop,” I tell Theo, motioning to his softening length as he wedges himself between my back and the couch, rolling me onto my side so that I face the movie screen. “Lonely Boy” is playing. I shut my eyes against the video, while Theo’s hands seem to paint the rhythm up and down my body.

“I can,” he agrees breathily, “but I won’t. Five. We had a deal.”

“I never agreed to that.” Truthfully, I want this fifth time. I need it with a hunger I’ve never felt before.

I wish to God it existed for anyone but him.

A new song starts, something electronic and heavy that fills my head with static. He slips his fingers into me from behind and growls against the back of my neck for me to rub my clitoris. I obey.

“Keep saying things,” I plead, so ashamed of how desperate I sound—how desperate I am—that I press my face into the cool leather of the sofa.

Theo pumps his fingers twice as hard. “You liked the dirty talk, huh?”

“I loved it.” I feel like I could subsist on nothing but that.

His breath quickens. Every beat of his heart bleeds into my spine.

“I knew you wanted this.” His tongue flicks out and traces the shape of my ear. I don’t know why, but it’s my favorite thing he’s done so far tonight: messing with my ear in any possible way. “The second I touched your pussy in the back of the car, I felt how much you wanted me inside you.”

He fingers me harder, moaning to himself in ecstasy when I release more hot liquid onto his hand and my thighs.

“That’s it, baby. Rub your clit for me.” He presses himself close when my pace picks up. I feel him growing hard again. It tips me even further to the edge of my final orgasm, knowing I have that kind of power over him.

Knowing he’s got that kind of power over me.

I rock against him, bucking my hips harder the faster our hands move. His cock presses against my ass until it feels like a concrete pipe, begging for a place to be.

I try to tell him we can get another condom, that I’m more than happy to share my orgasm—but his fingers move so fast and hard inside me, I can only moan.

When I come, it starts in my head: a dizzying high that melts down the rest of me. As soon as my muscles clench around him, he bites down hard on my earlobe.

I scream his name.

The explosion singes my nerves. Pleasure ripples over me until my brain feels wiped clean, nothing but that sinful sting in my ear and the sweet-smelling aroma of us, thick and choking and wonderfully addictive.

Theo waits until I’m completely motionless before his other hand starts to move. I feel him masturbating against my hip.

I know the polite thing would be to at least offer oral sex, even as an empty gesture, but the thought makes my stomach turn. And it’s not because I don’t want to.

In fact, I think wanting to is precisely why my stomach turns.

Instead, I lie there and pretend I’m still catching my breath. I kind of am, since my heartbeat feels faraway, and I’m convinced there’s no oxygen left in this theater. Just the sweet, wild scents of us, and the even wilder one that forms when we combine.

“Ruby,” he sighs, pressing his lips against my shoulder when he orgasms.

“Aria….”

“Promise me something,” I whisper, when we’ve relocated our hormone-drugged limbs to a dry couch with a fresh blanket. HIs arm is thrown over my waist, like the dip there was made just for him.

“Anything.”

I lift his hand off the cushion in front of me and turn it under the