Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“I need inside of you, now,” he growled against my mouth.
“Take me,” I breathed back.
As he crawled on top of me, the bed let out a loud squeak, announcing his arrival.
“Dammit,” he froze.
With feral eyes, he glanced around the room. There was nowhere else to go, and just as I decided to sprint across the hall to his bed, he let out a low rumble. “Good e-fucking-nough.”
In the next beat, he folded his arms around my middle, and I was up off the bed, my legs dangling between us until my back hit the wall. Then I circled them around his waist. His mouth came down over mine with a demand I was all too eager to answer.
And then, finally, it was his turn to be in a rush.
In a single fluid movement, only Devon was capable of, he tipped his hips away, shifting me just enough to allow his cock to find my entrance and then drove in hard.
I buried my cry of ecstasy in his neck as he claimed every inch of me—body, heart, and soul.
Using his upper body strength, he lifted me and then forced me back down with a rabid intensity. His fingertips bit painfully into my sides, but even that seemed to heighten the pleasure.
“Jesus,” he groaned, sweat beading on his forehead, every muscle in his neck and shoulders straining beneath my arms.
And I clung to him, knowing with absolute certainty he would never let me fall.
I bit down on my bottom lip, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as my hips chased the release teetering inside me. He kept his rhythm steady and relentless, fucking me with a brutal strength of passion.
“Lofton,” he warned, but I was already there. Wound to the point of breaking, my body snapped, an orgasm tearing through me, wave upon wave upon wave.
He followed fast, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside me.
The room spun, but Devon remained steady beneath me. He dropped his forehead against my shoulder, and his arms relaxed in the wake of his release, but his secure hold on me never faltered.
“Hey, you can put me down now.”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
I slid my hand through the short hairs on the side of his head, allowing my fingernails to scratch his scalp ever so gently. “Come on. Let’s take a shower. I’ll get you cleaned up and take care of you.”
“That’s my job.”
“Not tonight. That was a seriously impressive feat of strength.”
He chuckled. “You don’t weigh enough for it to be a feat of strength, babe. Though I might need you to stop feeding me waffles and muffins every morning so I can add a few more miles of cardio.”
I giggled. “Fair enough.”
He lifted his head, a playful smile tilting his lips. “Either that or my next feat of strength is going to be breaking all the slats off that damn bed and hurling them out the window. There’s a reason we fuck in my bed.”
He slowly lowered me to my feet but kept me pinned between his hard body and the wall. His gaze held mine for a long second, something warm and soft—so inherently the opposite of Devon Grant.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head, still grinning almost in disbelief. “I’ve never even had you in my bed. Or at my house. Or taken you to dinner. Or bought you so much as a drink. Or hell, any of the shit people do at the start of a relationship.”
My smile stretched so wide I feared it would swallow my face. “Oh wow, so we’re in a relationship now? I must have missed the check yes or no letter you slid under my door.”
He hit me with a side eye. “Woman, when the hell would I have time to write a damn letter? You showed up in my room with a pair of fuck-me heels and a prayer. And you have not let up on me for a single second since.”
I bit my lip. “I like to be proactive.”
“You like to be a menace.”
“Same thing.” Stifling a laugh, I rested my hands on his chest and tipped my chin up. “Are you complaining?”
He shrugged. “I guess that depends if you’re planning to check yes or no.”
I reached up, curled my hand around the back of his neck, and pulled his mouth down to mine. His bottom lip dragging against mine just long enough to make my breath catch before he deepened it.
He let out a low groan of approval against my mouth.
When I pulled back, I held his gaze. “Does that answer your question?”
“Getting there.” His eyes dropped to my mouth again. “Could probably use a little more clarification, though.”
I laughed, and he captured the sound with another kiss, slower this time. A connection without an agenda. But dear God, that connection was everything. I’d spent years performing versions of that moment on screen, reciting lines about love written by people who had clearly only been guessing at what it felt like. Because, as it turned out, none of them had come even remotely close to that moment with Devon.