Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
This moonlighting gig also aided her own agenda. An agenda Tiago could never, ever find out about.
Sliding one foot in front of the other, she approached the gorgeous stranger with deliberate slowness so that she could savor every glorious inch of him. Dark brows hooded those captivating eyes. Pillowy lips parted with his aroused breaths. Stubble shadowed his cheeks and jaw. And what a jawline. Even with the scruff, she could make out the chiseled angles.
His nose was perfect, no bumps or bends to suggest it’d ever been broken. Unlike most of the brutes she kept company with. His brown-blond hair was cut short. Neither buzzed nor long enough to style. Low maintenance.
For a white guy, his complexion had a remarkable glow, as if soaked with sunlight and lathered with oil. It was probably just the low lighting. But good lord, all that flawless tanned skin, the way it stretched over defined pecs and abs… No wonder every woman in the room was watching him, waiting for a turn to choke on his dick.
The one between his legs blocked Lucia’s view of his package. The two on the couch looked like they were seconds from humping his face.
Time for them to go.
Lucia picked up her pace, suddenly very aware of her nudity. What a novel feeling. She’d thought the first couple of years with Tiago had broken her of all modesty. But now, goosebumps rose on her arms. Her nipples hardened in the stuffy air, and she fought the urge to hug the scar on her abdomen.
The man didn’t break eye contact, and as if held in hypnosis, she couldn’t either. She paused within arm’s reach, and without removing her gaze from his, she made a shooing motion.
At the edges of her periphery, the women skulked away, knowing better than to challenge Tiago Badell’s favorite confidant.
Her eyes stayed on his as he lowered his hand and removed the condom. Then he sat back and rested his arms along the back of the couch, unabashedly nude with the robe open, as if inviting her to look.
She meant to take a leisurely stroll down the length of his body, but she only made it to the thick column of his neck before skipping straight to his cock.
Her breath caught, and heat flushed between her legs. God almighty, the man was blessed in both length and girth. So hard and thick. Beautifully shaped. A vein pulsed along the fat shaft. The wide, suckable crown and silky skin pulled taut—
Wait. He was circumcised? It’d been so long since she’d seen a cut penis. It wasn’t a common practice in South America. Or Europe.
But it was prevalent in the United States.
Her gaze lifted to the blue of his, which hadn’t moved from her face. “You’re American.”
He glanced at his erection, a frown piercing his forehead. Then he returned to her eyes. “So are you.”
Her Colombian heritage made it easy to blend in here, but her American accent always gave her away.
For the first time since she spotted him, he released her gaze, lowering his down her body, inspecting her mouth, throat, chest, and lower. He gave her ugly scar a cursory glance and paused on her pussy.
The brazen way he examined that part of her made her inner muscles spasm. Could he see the throbbing? The desire dripping onto her thighs?
She endured his predatory stare for long seconds before lowering to her knees and settling between his spread legs. Her hands itched to wrap around his swollen length, but she wouldn’t. Not until he was feverish and ready to crawl out of his skin with need.
She started with his ankles, trailing feather-light caresses up the backs of his calves. The dusting of coarse hair tickled her fingers, and his muscles bounced against her touch. She gave the fronts of his legs the same attention and moved above his knees, inching her body closer and relishing the feel of his powerful thighs around her.
When she reached his heavy sac, she let her fingernails graze the skin but otherwise neglected the neediest part of him.
His arms lowered from the back of the couch to his sides, and his breathing deepened, his lips separating to accommodate the pull and release of air.
He looked ravenous, and she fed off it, her hands traveling over his torso, exploring every brawny bump and carved furrow. She kept the motion unhurried, rhythmic, seductive. Then she added her mouth, licking and nibbling his velvety skin.
God help her, he smelled heavenly. Clean and pure, without a hint of cologne or aftershave. He smelled natural, fresh, like a man who took care of himself. His pubic hair was trimmed. His teeth were white, and his physique was a powerhouse of sculpted muscle. The perfect example of a healthy male.
The sounds of slapping flesh and hoarse groans saturated the room, spurring her on. She worshiped his body with her hands and mouth, delighting in every twitch, every moan. His erection pressed like a hot iron against her belly, and his lashes fell half-mast over sexy bedroom eyes as he teasingly caught the edge of his bottom lip between his teeth.