Sacred Revelations by Harte Roxy Read Free Book Online

help me find it!”
    He growled into my ear, “Count!”
    “One.”
    Standing, he softly stroked inside my thigh, making me quake, drawing his fingers between my labia to press his finger against my clit, making me squirm, not realizing that I had stopped counting until he reminded me, pinching my clit. He growled, “Start over, Sophia, and this time count to twenty, or I will drive away and I will not master you, not ever, understood?”
    “One,” I started again and his fingers slid through my slickness. I closed my eyes against the sight of Garrett, counting on auto-pilot, his fingers sliding, pressing, playing with my clit. “Two, three.”
    “Look at him, Sophia, remember last night. Did he touch you like this?”
    “Four.” I didn’t answer his question but looked at Garrett, remembering his nakedness, his perfect body, the shadowed lines of rib and muscle. The dark trail of hair that led from the large swath covering his chest to the narrow trail of hair that led to his cock.
    “Did he lick you and kiss you here?” He rubbed my clit softly, butterfly-soft touches that at once brought back to my mind the hours I spent with Garrett loving me tenderly. The vision of Garrett’s head between my legs, his dark hair spilled against the creamy whiteness of my thighs, his blue-blue eyes rolling up to look at me as I came on his tongue flooded my headspace. I counted without thinking, “Five, six,” as I remembered my screams as Garrett took me with such gentle softness.
    With each count, Lord Fyre plunged and withdrew, plunged and withdrew. He was fucking me with his fingers, plunging with each count and, as much as I hated what he was doing, fucking with my mind, I couldn’t stop counting.
    “Nine, ten, eleven.” I grew wetter, writhing over the narrow padded seat as Lord Fyre touched me mercilessly, softly stroking then flicking my clit.
    “T-twelve,” I stuttered, swearing loudly, “Oh God!”
    Whispering, “Thirteen,” so softly, I was surprised when he didn’t comment, but then, for a moment, I couldn’t count at all, whispering in curse, in prayer, “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” as he kept the rhythm of his fingers consistent.
    “Fourteen, fifteen.” Flick. Flick.
    “Sixteen, seventeen.” Flick. Flick.
    “Seventeen.” An orgasm washed through my body.
    Flick. Flick. Flick. “You said seventeen already.”
    I quaked against air, his fingers hovering over me, waiting for my count, but I couldn’t think to count. All I could do was spiral and crash, my orgasm making my knees weak, my breath a ragged, shuddering sound. Only the motorcycle seat supporting my weight kept me standing.
    “Eighteen, Sophia. Count.”
    I repeated, “Eighteen,” forgetting why I was counting, but then his fingers were there to remind me. Soft slide.Flick.
    I cried out, my clit super-sensitive post-orgasm.
    “Nineteen,” he said. I repeated it, “Nineteen.”
    Flick.
    “Twenty.” I whispered, waiting for the painful flick of his fingers, but his hand was gone from between my legs. He pulled me off his bike, standing me on shaking legs, the dampness on my thighs a mockery of what just happened between us, my panties still around my knees. I fell against him, only the strength in his hands wrapped around my upper arms keeping me from falling. He held me like that a long moment, long enough for me to be embarrassed by what just happened, long enough for me to feel his body heat.
    I was standing on my own before I realized he’d released me.
    “Pull up your panties, adjust your skirt, and wait for me on the swings.”
    Starting his engine, he pulled away, leaving me to do as he said, but I didn’t move. I stood there with my panties around my knees, lip caught between my teeth, dampness sticking my thighs together. It was a short ride for him to reach the parking lot, pulling the motorcycle to a stop in front of Garrett, blocking my sight of him. Hearing voices, I quickly pulled up my panties and straightened