Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
His lips curl into a grin. “Maybe.”
I exhale slowly, processing his words, trying to wrap my head around what he’s proposing. “How would that even work?”
“Trust me,” he says simply.
My heart skips a beat.
Trust. Have I truly ever trusted anyone?
It’s a simple word with serious implications.
I want to trust Hawk.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His eyes widen slightly as if he hadn’t expected me to agree. But he quickly regains composure.
“All right.” Hawk clears his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. “Okay. Lie down on the couch.”
I blink at him, but I do as he says. He kneels next to me, his gaze never leaving mine as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs.
I obey again, shutting out the light and focusing solely on the sound of his voice and the warmth radiating from his body.
“Now,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper, “imagine yourself somewhere peaceful, somewhere safe. Picture it in your mind.”
I nod, picturing a small sandy beach. The waves are calm, rolling gently onto the pristine shore. “A beach,” I say softly.
“Good,” he says. “Now picture yourself there. The wind is blowing through your hair, the sun is warm on your skin.”
I imagine it—the heat of the sun, the slight chill of the wind. It feels real, so real I swear I can smell the salty sea air.
He stays quiet for a moment, letting me settle into the imagery. Then his voice comes again, low and soothing.
“Are you alone on this beach?” he asks.
I think about it and then shake my head. He doesn’t need to ask who’s with me. He already knows.
“No.”
“What’s happening?”
“We’re just walking,” I tell him, picturing Hawk’s hand in mine as we stroll along the water’s edge.
“Good. Now lie down on a soft blanket that I’ve spread out.”
“Okay. I’m lying down.” Not too difficult since I’m lying on the couch.
“Good.” He breathes out. “Now, imagine… Imagine my hands near your body, but not touching your skin. Instead, they’re hovering just above you, generating a certain warmth that’s tantalizing and comforting at the same time.”
His words coax heat into my veins, his voice a soft caress against my ears. I can almost feel the phantom touch of his hands above me, moving slowly, gently exploring.
“Can you feel it?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
“Unbutton your blouse, Daniela. Keep your eyes closed.”
Instinct takes over as I fumble with the white buttons to my silky blouse. When I’m done, the silk falls away from me. My nipples are already hard, and I feel them protruding against the fabric of my bra.
“Skim your fingers over your nipples,” Hawk says. “Imagine it’s me.”
My fingers tremble as they brush against the thin fabric of my bra, my touch light and uncertain. Warmth coils in my belly, tightening with each passing second.
“Good,” he whispers, his voice so close now that I can feel his breath on my skin. “Now, imagine me touching you there. Imagine my thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought, heat pooling between my legs. I let out a soft gasp as I dare to apply a little more pressure.
“You’re doing great, Daniela,” he says. “Now imagine me unclasping your bra and sliding it off your shoulders.”
I reach behind me, fumbling with the clasp before finally freeing myself from the confines of the fabric. The cool air against my skin sends another shiver coursing through me.
“God, Daniela,” Hawk breathes out. “You’re so beautiful.”
His words stir something deep within me—a newfound courage, a newfound awareness of my own body.
“Cup your breasts,” he says, “and imagine it’s me. My hands, my fingers.”
I let out a shaky breath, imagining his large hand palming me, his thumb brushing over my peaked nipple.
“Good,” he says, his voice deeper than before. “Do you want more?”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“Pinch your nipple. Just lightly.”
“Oh God…” Tingles shoot through me, landing between my legs.
“Now,” he begins again, “imagine my mouth on you.”
“Oh…” The sound slips past my lips unbidden as his words conjure explicit images in my mind, sending a jolt of pure desire straight to my core.
“Good, Dani. Now slide your hand down your belly.”
I surrender and let my hand drift lower, past the waistband of my pants. My heart pounds as I dip my fingers beneath the fabric of my panties.
“Now imagine my fingers,” he says. “Can you picture them, Dani?”
“Yes,” I gasp out, a shiver racking through me.
“Good,” he says, his voice dropping. “Now move your fingers how you imagine I would.”
My eyes are still tightly closed. I move my fingers slowly at first, matching what I imagine his rhythm would be. The sensation is foreign and familiar at the same time, utterly intoxicating.
And then Hawk says something that forces every other thought from my mind.