Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
A startled laugh slips free. “Are you being serious?”
“As a heart attack.” His hand snakes up my thigh. “Fair’s fair.”
I arch a brow as heat pools in my belly. “And what exactly is it that you want?”
He shifts, rolling his hips until the hard press of him grinds against me, ripping any sense of composure from my body.
His tone turns dark and hungry. “Pretty sure you can figure that out all on your own, baby.”
Unable to resist, I arch closer, chasing more of what I swore I wouldn’t. Triumph flares in his eyes as his mouth ghosts over mine again, softer this time.
It’s more of a whisper that’s equal parts tease and threat.
My head is screaming at me to shove him away and end this before I tumble any deeper.
But my heart and traitorous body?
They only want one thing.
Oliver Van Doren.
8
Oliver
She sits on my lap with her jaw locked, pretending to be unaffected. It’s the flicker of her pulse at her throat that gives her away.
“You know how much I love when you’re on your knees.” The words rasp out of me, carrying the kind of hunger that’s been gnawing at me for hours.
Her eyes flare, pupils going wide, but she doesn’t back away.
Instead, she folds her arms and lifts her chin in challenge. “You really think you’re owed a blow job, huh?”
For a beat, neither of us moves.
One corner of my mouth hitches. “Owed? Sweetheart, we both know I earned it.” I don’t give her the chance to respond. “You came so hard you nearly fell apart, and the only reason half the arena didn’t hear you was because your hand was pressed over your mouth.”
A rush of color floods her cheeks, blooming high across her skin. She can roll her eyes and talk tough all she wants, but we both know the truth.
“Maybe,” she mutters.
I bark out a laugh. “Don’t kid yourself. It’s much closer to definitely.”
My hand finds the back of her neck, fingers curling as I draw her closer.
Everything I whisper against her mouth feels like a promise and a claim. “I dream about the way your lips stretch around me when you suck my cock. The tight, wet slide of them down my hard length.” My voice turns rough. “The way your muscles constrict with each swallow, squeezing tight. Even thinking about it makes me hard as a rock.”
Her pupils dilate, her mouth parting as a shaky exhale brushes my skin. She can fight it all she wants, but there’s desire in her eyes. It’s hot, unguarded, and impossible to miss.
“Please, baby.” The plea scrapes out of me, sounding more like a growl. “Don’t make me beg. You know I will. I’ve got zero pride where you’re concerned.”
The corners of her mouth curve up. “Isn’t that the truth.”
She nips at my lower lip, teeth grazing the firm flesh before releasing it. For a second, I’m sure she’s going to tell me to get the hell out. Instead, she slides from the couch. Every thought in my head short-circuits as I sink back slightly, legs spreading, pulse hammering in my throat with anticipation.
A rough sound breaks loose from me as I cup her cheek. “That mouth of yours should come with a warning label.”
Her hands move with precision, each motion winding the tension inside me tighter until it feels like I’m on the verge of exploding. This woman knows exactly how to make me forget every ounce of self-control I’ve ever prided myself on having.
My erection feels more like a steel rod trapped beneath cotton, the tip already wet with arousal. She presses her thumb against the damp spot, rubbing lazy circles over the head until I’m gritting my teeth.
It’s the sweetest kind of torture.
A jolt shoots through every nerve in my body as my thoughts narrow to her touch and the rough edge of wanting her more than I care to admit.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
Without answering, she tugs the waistband low, just enough to free my cock, and the sudden rush of warmth against my skin is almost too much to bear. Her fingers wrap around the thick length and stroke while her other hand slips into my boxers to cup my balls with the perfect amount of pressure that leaves my muscles trembling.
Every movement is deliberate as she leans in. The air between us hums with something dangerous, something that crawls under my skin and refuses to let go. The sound that rumbles out of me is raw and unrestrained, pulled from deep down in a place I can’t control.
“Christ, baby girl,” I grit out, half groaning. “You’re seriously killing me right now.”
Her tongue flicks out to lick the tip before sliding down the length. She massages my balls with one hand, squeezing and rolling until my eyes nearly cross with pleasure. A rough groan breaks free before I can stop it as she licks her way back up to the head and opens her mouth, taking me inside until I’m surrounded by the most decadent kind of heat.