Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Then she starts to grind.
Not hard or fast, but that lazy, torturous roll of her hips that shoots heat straight through me. My hands tighten on her, fingers digging into the softness just under her ass.
And when she shifts again, this time reaching between us, cupping me like she knows exactly what she’s doing, my chest fumbles with a heady growl.
She’s smiling, proud of herself. That pleased little smirk that says she’s got me, that she knows what comes next, and I’m thinking she does.
One second, she’s smirking; the next she’s flat on her back, staring up at me with wide eyes and a breath that punches out of her like I stole the air from her lungs.
I don’t give it back. Not yet.
“Better?” I ask, voice low, hands braced on either side of her head, holding my weight just above hers. Not touching, but just close enough to let her feel me. “That what you wanted?”
She nods.
Cute, but not nearly enough.
I dip low, brushing my mouth against hers, just enough to make her ache.
“That little nod’s not enough, Angel.” My voice dips, heavy with promise. “You gonna lie there and let me teach you how to beg properly?”
She shudders, thighs pressing together like her body is answering for her before her mouth can even try.
I grin and pull back.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “We’ll start now.”
I don’t touch her right away. I just watch, letting her squirm under the weight of my stare, letting her feel the tension stretch like a wire between us, taut and humming.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, a naughty little habit of hers, telling me she’s already on edge, more than ready to be pushed off it.
I start slow, trailing my fingertips down her sides with light, lazy strokes that are barely grazing skin. I want her aching before I even touch the places that count.
“You gonna stay still for me?” I hum, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
She nods, and I arch a brow.
“Yes,” she whispers, voice already strained. “I’ll stay still.”
“Good.” I kiss her jaw, then lower, mouthing a path down her throat, her collarbone, slow enough to drive us both insane. “You’re gonna earn every second of this.”
Her breath hitches as I drag my mouth down her chest, and I make it a point to take my time, worshipping but not rushing. Never rushing.
I want to draw out every sigh, every stuttered breath, until she’s too far gone to remember her own name and earn the right to the control she so willingly gave me.
When I finally get between her thighs again, she’s shaking.
I glance up at her.
“Hands stay where they are,” I say. “If you reach for me, it stops.”
She whimpers, actually whimpers, but manages a strangled “okay.”
Obedient. Desperate.
Fucking perfect.
I don’t tease this time and there are no more warnings needed. I give her exactly what she’s been begging for, my hands on her body, my mouth on her neck, my voice hot against her skin, all working in tandem to undo her one breath at a time.
And the whole time, I’m watching her.
Listening for the break.
Waiting for the moment she shatters so completely she forgets she ever wanted anything but this.
Her breath hitches. Her thighs press together like she’s trying to hold the pleasure back with sheer will alone. I don’t stop—I press my mouth higher on her throat, my hand sliding to her inner thigh, parting them, gripping them until she’s trembling.
Her hand twitches at her side and I pause, my tongue tasting the skin along her collarbone. “Don’t touch me, Angel. And don’t even think about coming until I say.”
She nods, frantic, fingers digging into the comforter beneath her.
I stop, pulling back just enough to make her feel the loss. “Say it.”
She breathes it out like a prayer. “Yes.”
And fuck, if I don’t feel something snap inside me.
Not just the hunger that’s already overwhelming, but something deeper. Something sharp and possessive and a little reverent, like I just got handed something no one else will ever touch.
She wants to be good for me. For me. And now all I want is to make sure she never forgets what that means.
Finally, I kiss her, but still not softly, and I don’t let her lead.
I take and I give in equal measure, tongue sliding against hers, hands moving up her ribs, under the jersey. My fucking jersey.
She tenses, just for a second, but still I pause, meeting her gaze. “Baby, you are like nothing I have ever known before. Don’t hide from me,” I say, voice quiet but steel-edged. “Not this. Not ever. Got it?”
She stares up at me, eyes glassy, breath shallow, and this time, instead of using her words, she does me one better, shimmying so the jersey slides up higher, and I help her out.
But when she tries to lift her arms, I back down with a shake of my head. “No. This stays on. I want to make you come with my name all over you,” I tell her, gently resting the material just over her chest.