Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Showing me what turns him on the most.
Making me feel like I’m drowning in his desire.
And I don’t want to come up for air.
With his tongue cartwheeling over me, I lose my mind, gasping as I detonate.
The powerful release steals my senses. It blasts through my body and mind.
I moan for days, gripping his hair as the orgasm seizes me. Sparks burst behind my eyes. Bliss radiates in my cells.
I’m still gasping from the orgasm, my body loose and noodle-y when I finally flutter open my eyes.
Tyler’s wiping a hand across his wet mouth.
Sexiest. Thing. Ever.
Before I can even say a word, or a thanks, or a wow, he shifts back on his heels, grips my waist, and lifts me, tossing me over his shoulder in no time.
I’m half-naked, and he’s already carrying me across the room.
“What are you doing?” I shout, then smack his back playfully.
His palm lands on my ass, a quick, sharp swat that zings through me. I shudder. No one has ever spanked me before. I kind of want to ask for another, but before I can get the words out, he says, “I’m giving you your second orgasm—that’s what I’m doing.”
Oh well, I can table the spanking for now then.
He rounds the corner and tosses me onto the bed. Then, he drops his palms to the mattress, bracing himself on those strong arms, muscles bulging, and stares down at me. “If memory serves, you wanted this too.”
He grabs my wrists, pushes them above my head, and straddles me. “Am I right?”
I look up at him—his overpowering frame, his intense eyes, his coiled strength.
“Yes,” I say, my breath staggered and needy, matching how I feel inside.
Because this—this is everything I’ve wanted. For him to hold me down, fuck me hard, wreck me.
“Fuck me like this now. Please don’t make me wait,” I beg, and I don’t even care.
His eyes flicker with dirty delight. He lets go of my wrists and sits up, grabs my hand, and says, “Take off my shirt. I know you fucking want to.”
“Presumptuous,” I say, but I’m reaching for the top button, hastily undoing all of them and spreading it open.
He does have tattoos. Like I wondered. Like I hoped.
I yank that shirt off so fast, then fling it to the floor. I press a hand to his right pec, tracing the dates inked there, recognizing them instantly. “You tattooed your kids’ birthdays on your chest?”
He presses his hand over mine, holding it tight. Gripping it like we’re both holding something sacred. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t have to say they’re what matters most to him. It’s clear. It’s clear in the way he holds my hand so my fingers can stroke the ink on his chest. So I can touch what matters most to him.
I’m mesmerized—not just by the ink, but by the feel of him.
The strength of his chest. The sturdiness of his body. The dark trail of hair traveling from his pecs down the ladder of his abs to the waistband of his pants, making my mouth water.
“I want these off,” I say, tugging at them now, boldness overtaking me.
I’ve never been bold in bed before—not because I’m shy, but because I’ve never really enjoyed sex.
Now though? I think I’m going to love it. “Get naked,” I demand.
If I blurted things out that night we were together in the hotel, that’s nothing compared to how I am now. I’m unleashed, and I have so many things I want to say.
He drags a hand down his face. “Holy fuck. I can barely keep up with you.”
I blink. “Is that bad?”
He dips his face, brushing his lips tenderly against mine. “It’s all good.” When he breaks the kiss, he tugs at my sweater. “And I could say the same to you. Get naked. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” I strip off my shirt and sports bra, suddenly naked before him.
His eyes don’t settle. They travel. Up. Down. Over every inch of me.
“I am going to have a field day with this beautiful body,” he says, flicking a finger against my right nipple and the slim silver barbell that runs through it. “And we’re going to come back to this. I want to spend a good long time with these beauties.”
“Have me. Do whatever you want,” I say, trembling from the pleasure and the promise of more. Especially since someone is finally appreciating the piercings I had done a few years ago. I did them for me—I like them. But wow—to be with a man who enjoys them so shamelessly is entirely new. It might even be my new guilty pleasure.
He slides his hands to my waist, then stops. “Shit. I don’t have condoms.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I haven’t had sex in…a long time,” he admits. “More than a year.”
And I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m even more turned on by his restraint.