Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Madden . . .” Weakened by the thorniest, most unique climax in recent memory, she turned into a puddle of bones on the couch. “What . . . what?”
He loomed over her, propped on one elbow, his expression almost thoughtful as he watched her huff and puff through her recovery.
“How do you not look cocky right now?”
“Should I?”
“Yes.”
He hummed, a line snapping in his jaw as he slowly ground his bulge between her thighs, then punching his hips forward once, twice, the friction against her sensitive sex making her want to grab his butt and keep him there. “Catch your breath, Eve. I’m going down on you now.”
Panic made a slow slice through the fog, like the bow of a ship. Going down on you. He’d . . . he’d have to take off her panties for that. In the light.
He’d see the scar. He’d know.
Madden was already sitting back, his eyes glittering with intention in the dull morning light, the dainty waistband of her panties pinched between his fingers. How would she ever explain that scar? He’d react badly for so many reasons. Because she’d never told him. Because she’d made herself vulnerable to long-term health risks. But most of all, if Madden saw that scar, there would be no convincing him to end this relationship at six months. His commitment to her would be lifelong and she wouldn’t do that to him.
Stop him.
“Wait. No.” Despite Eve’s lethargy, she sat up and ordered herself to soften the alarm in her tone. “No,” she murmured, climbing onto her knees—and it didn’t require any effort to sprinkle seduction into her movements, because he was thick and gorgeous and pissed he wasn’t giving her oral sex right now. Put that at the top of his list of good qualities. “You have to let me recover first,” she said, closing the short distance between them on her knees and running her nails down his hard chest, leaning in to kiss the dip between his pecs, dragging her mouth sideways to breathe hot air against his nipples.
“Eve . . .” Madden was starting to breathe harder. “Let me get a goddamn taste.”
The raw vibration of need in his voice almost made her give in, damn the consequences, but she bit him playfully, instead, her fingertips teasing circles low on his abdomen. “Let me get mine,” she said softly, sipping kisses on the swell of his chest, his jaw, his shoulders, all while her fingers danced over the heavy ridge behind his zipper. “Show it to me, Mad.”
A sound dragged up his vocal cords, his stomach muscles bunching in a way that looked almost painful. “Eve.”
“Show it to me so I can suck it,” she whispered, stroking him through his pants, her grip firm, her thumb tracing base to head, teasing him there, before massaging back down to the root. “Are you going to make me say please?”
He bit off a groan, a sheen of sweat building on his chest. “I’m the beggar in this relationship, love. I’d beg for you until my dying breath.”
Eve’s chest grew heavy and she nodded, dropping her face low to rub it against the protrusion between his thighs, dragging her open mouth side to side, witnessing the growth of him right in front of her eyes. As her fantasies usually included two elements—Madden and some light voyeurism—her gaze couldn’t help but slip over to the window across the room and notice the slight gap between the curtains.
Someone could easily look in if they wanted to.
The thought alone was enough to infuse her with heat, her fingers working to free the button of his jeans—
“Caught you looking at the window, Eve,” he managed between rasping breaths.
The tips of her ears tingled hot. “Me? No.”
Madden made a skeptical sound and caught her jaw in his hand, lifting her up until their lips melded together, the growth of his beard scraping the softness of her cheeks and chin as his mouth rode over hers, seeking and hungry. “Trust me to give you what you need,” he said, taking her mouth again, again, again, until she almost begged him to stop the torture and fuck her. As hard as he wanted, however he wanted. Plainly put, she’d never been so lost to lust in her life. Nothing mattered but the next stroke of his tongue, the next position of his hands, the radiant heat of his body.
“I do trust you,” she gasped.
Madden nodded and rose from the couch, bringing her with him. He guided her across the room to the spot directly in front of the window and knelt her down.
Then he yanked open the curtains.
In spilled the muted, stormy light across both of them as Madden unzipped his jeans, the tendons shifting and popping in his forearms. Meanwhile, Eve was trembling, her tank top around her hips, soaked through her panties, mouth swollen . . . reeling from the impact of what was taking place. Sure, her apartment was located on the second floor and the rain was blurring objects on either side of the window, but there was an identical building across the parking lot and their windows faced hers. If someone was watching, they would see her kneeling in front of Madden, half dressed.