Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
She nodded so vigorously, she almost dislocated her jaw. “Yes. Yes.”
“God, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he muttered, his wet fingers sliding down into the split of her flesh, the friction to her clit like shock paddled to the system, and she choked a moan in her throat, heels digging into the ground, her hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in, scraping up into his hair, core flexing. Flexing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Drenched from making me come. She wears an innocent black bathing suit, but get the girl on her knees and . . . motherfucker. She’s a bright pink thong girl waiting to happen, aren’t you, Skylar? Never got off so fast in my fucking life.”
Someone had blowtorched her nerve endings.
As a lifelong athlete, Skylar knew physical highs, but she’d never experienced anything like this. For one, she had total and complete trust of this man to be telling her the truth. She wasn’t distracted by trying to read between the lines or judge his impression of her. She was free to feel—and feel she did. Everywhere. It was possible to be tense with need and languid with want all at once. She knew that now.
That tongue of his continued to skim back and forth on his bottom lip, but it paused as he looked down at her bared flesh for the first time, his hand tensing on her knee. “Damn, that’s beautiful. I’d love to be riding it right now, but you had to be so good with that mouth, didn’t you?” Robbie got down on his belly, releasing a hot exhale against her core with his eyes closed. “I’m good with mine, too. Drop those knees if you want to find out.”
Did she drop them?
Yes, she did.
And good was an understatement. He licked some kind of S shape along her damp seam, then slowly pressed her open with the flat of his tongue, his thumbs skimming up and down on her inner thighs, giving her goose bumps, butterflies, all of it, before he finally started a gentle French kiss of her sex, introducing his tongue with shallow strokes that went deeper the more she started to shake, her whimpers lost in the pound of shower spray on glass, the steam enveloping them both, muffling everything except her body’s overwhelming response.
“Can you . . .” she gasped.
“Bet.”
His tongue met her clit and married it. That’s what it felt like. A union. Two becoming one. He fused to her and stayed, groaning and holding her thighs wide while he raked his tongue up, down, and sideways on that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Oh my God,” she managed, sounding throaty, like a different person, her fingers clinging to the strands of his hair, pulling him close. “Robbie.”
“Shhh. We’re not the only ones in this house.” He pushed two thick fingers inside of her, his expression vivid with lust over the way her hips lifted, grinding up against his mouth, her legs trembling. “Might have to drive us the two hours back to Boston just to hear you scream my name the first time we fuck.” He kissed her clit, lapped at it with a savoring sound. “Don’t worry, I’m going to be loud, too, hitting my tight girl.”
He followed that raspy pronouncement with suction and she peaked without warning, her intimate muscles gathering in on themselves and spasming while she gasped for oxygen and attempted to absorb and fight the pleasure at the same time, because it was unexpected and too much. So much, she tore at his hair and shook, her body in a sort of divine shock, hot and fulfilled and relieved and sensitive.
Collapse.
Skylar wanted to marvel over the fact that she’d had an orgasm with a man for the first time, that Robbie was not all talk, but walked the walk. That she could, in fact, let her mind go enough to reach completion with the right person.
Was . . . Robbie the right person?
Had other girls ever wondered the same thing?
These feelings were coming on so fast and furious, she couldn’t tell if they were a product of her and Robbie’s close and continual proximity or if this glorious wrenching in her chest was authentic. If it was? God, that made her so vulnerable. Primed to have the rug pulled out from beneath her as soon as she let her guard down.
That startling train of thought was interrupted because she found herself limp, draped in Robbie’s strong arms, being carried to her bed. He laid her down naked on top of the comforter and covered her in a throw blanket.
Then he stared down at her, brow creased.
“What are you thinking about?” she murmured, snuggling into the blanket, admiring his body that was still covered in a mixture of shower steam and sweat.