Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"How long are you going to keep pretending to be asleep," he whispers in my ear.
I jolt because I was certain he was still sleeping.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he says, snuggling his face deeper against my neck.
The scruff on his jaw is abrading to my sensitive skin, but for some reason, it only fans the fire that has been burning feverishly inside of me.
I roll my hips, chewing on my lower lip, when I feel his lips turn up into a smile against my skin.
"Do you think you'll feel like going back to your house to pack later today?"
I shift, turning over so I can face him, very aware of my morning breath.
"I decided against moving," I say, running my hand over his warm, bare chest.
The man has a body meant for gods alone, and one of these days I have every intention of spending hours mapping out every single dip and curve, first with my fingers and then with my tongue.
He clasps my hand, holding it away from his chest.
"You have to move, Caitlyn."
He lifts my hand, pressing his lips to the center of my palm before letting his eyes flutter closed.
"Wow," I mutter, trying to pull myself away from him. "This level of manipulation is fucking diabolical."
His eyes open, slow and unconcerned.
Before I can shift to get off the bed, he covers me with his body, that part of him I woke up craving pressed right where I had needed it moments ago.
I can't help the moan that escapes my throat, but I hate him a little for it.
"It would be impossible for you to wake up every day in my arms if you move, Caitlyn."
"That is not where I thought that was going," I mutter, still a little pissed that he'd play me the way he just did.
"Yeah?" he asks with another swivel of his hips. "Where did you want the morning to go?"
I pull in a deep sigh, letting my eyes dart away. If he wants to play games, I can sure try to play them as well.
I know the battle is lost within seconds when he lets one hand drift down between the two of us, pulling his hips back just enough to give two fingers room to slide against my center.
"Jesus," he pants with a swallow. "How long has this been going on?"
I angle my head up, neck bobbing as he sweeps those talented fingers along the most sensitive part of my body.
"Since I met you," I whisper.
"Saying shit like that will make me come before I can even get inside of you, baby."
I roll my hips again before lifting so I can urge his fingers inside of me instead of the light teasing touch he's torturing me with right now.
"Please," I beg because there's really no point in even trying to pretend he can't give me exactly what I need.
"Mmm," he moans as he slips two fingers inside of me.
My core clenches, loving the intrusion, and I realize how strange it is to only feel what he's doing to me as a good thing. There's no whisper in the back of my mind. There's no urgency to get it over with so I can get away from him. If anything, I want to spend every second of every day with his hands and mouth on me.
"Need you," I confess, every muscle in my body tense and begging for release.
"I know," he says with a toying smile, and then his fingers are just gone.
"Roman, if you—"
He smiles, pressing a too-quick kiss to my lips before he pulls the blanket over his head and begins to slide down my body.
It's mere seconds before he pulls up the t-shirt of his I'm wearing and the warmth of his mouth is wrapped around the tip of my breast. If it weren't for the weight of his body on mine, I swear I'd float away with pleasure.
The noises he makes, the pleasure he isn't afraid to express as he explores my body with his mouth drive me insane. It ratchets up my need and makes me ache for release.
My mouth is open, incapable of sound by the time his warm breath is skating over the skin of my belly button, and I jerk periodically when he nips at my skin. The teeth are gone, and he's nothing but lips and tongue by the time he makes his way lower, and I spread my legs at the insistence of his hands when he presses his palms against my thighs.
I know it has to be dark under there. There's barely any light coming into the room from outside, but it doesn't seem to be a problem for his aim.
His lips lock around my clit, his firm hands holding me in place when my hips buck with the suction.
I swear, with the noises he's making, he's enjoying this as much, if not more, than I am. No, that can't be true. There's no way it's better for him than it is for me because the man is a fucking magician with his mouth.