Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
She grins, impish. “You planning to look all night?”
“Maybe,” I say, but I’m already reaching for her, already kissing down her throat, down her collarbone, licking every inch like I can taste her feelings if I try hard enough.
She fumbles with my shirt, gets half the buttons undone before she gives up and just yanks it open, popping two off. She runs her hands over my chest like she’s mapping it, fingers finding every edge and hollow. It’s strange, being touched like this. Gentle. She’s not trying to take control, but she’s also not submitting. We’re equals in this.
I cup her ass in both hands, lift her onto the bed like she’s nothing, and crawl on top of her, straddling her hips with my thighs. She bites her lip, eyes wide. I want to see her come apart, want to make her sob and shake, but I don’t want to scare her. Not tonight.
I undo her bra slowly, watching the way her eyes flutter when the straps fall. Her tits are perfect, round, and full, with dark pink areolas and hard nipples begging to be sucked. I take one in my mouth, roll my tongue around it, and she arches up with a gasp.
She’s already grinding her hips against me, trying to get friction, but I pin her down, making her wait.
“Bossy,” she whispers, but her voice is so breathless it comes out as a plea.
“Get used to being bossed for the rest of your life,” I say, moving down her body. I kiss her stomach, her hips, her inner thighs, biting and sucking until she’s shaking. I hook her panties with my thumbs and slide them down, slow enough that she whines in frustration.
Her pussy glistens from her juices while her clit peeks out like it’s desperate for attention. I lick a stripe up her slit and she cries out, bucking her hips. I take my time, savoring every taste and tremor.
She’s so wet it’s obscene, and when I slide two fingers in, she clenches around me like a fist. “Ahh,” she gasps, grabbing at the sheets. “I’m—”
I suck her clit while I finger her, scissoring my fingers just right, and she comes so fast and hard I think she might actually pass out. Her whole body shakes, her thighs clamp around my head, but I don’t stop until she’s twitching, begging me to slow down.
When I finally let up, she’s panting with her hair stuck to her forehead and her eyes glassy and wild. I crawl up her body, lick the sweat from her neck, and kiss her jaw, her cheek, her eyelids.
“Too much?” I murmur.
She laughs, still breathless. “Not even close.”
I want to fuck her slow, want to make it last, but my hands are trembling and my cock is so hard it hurts. I line up and push in, slow, letting her feel every inch. She moans, low and guttural, and wraps her legs around my hips, locking me in place.
As I start to move, she grabs my face and stares up into my eyes. “Don’t stop,” she says. “Please.”
I don’t. I keep my eyes on hers as my hips pick up speed. I want her to see how much I want this, want her, want everything.
We move together, slow at first, then harder, chasing the same high. She whispers my name, over and over, like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. I press my forehead to hers, sweat dripping down, and fuck her until the world goes dark at the edges.
When I come, I crush her to me, every muscle straining, and empty myself inside her, shaking with the force of it.
After, we lay tangled up, her head on my chest, my hands stroking her back. She draws lazy circles on my ribs, tracing every scar.
We fall asleep like that, still wrapped around each other, city lights blazing outside the window, and for once, the world feels exactly as it should be.
CHAPTER 10
NATALIE
The faint light of dawn filters through the curtains as I open my eyes, casting soft shadows across the room. The sheets are a mess, twisted and knotted around me, evidence of a nighttime struggle. I can almost feel the ghostly imprint of Declan's arms that had wrapped around me tightly, pinning me in place around four in the morning.
My right leg is numb, trapped under his thigh, and the left one is stretching out from beneath the covers to cool me off a little. The minor inconvenience of being unable to move any part of my body without waking the six-foot-seven Marine glued to my body is a small price to pay for the cozy night of sleep.
I shift, gently, just to test the limits of circulation, and Declan’s arm tightens around my ribs. His hand cups my breast, thumb idly brushing over the nipple like he’s running a systems check before the start of business hours.