Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I kissed her.
And here, finally, was Sylvie. Her mouth moved under mine. Hands coming up to sink into my hair, fingers curving, holding me tight, her tongue sliding against mine. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as close as I could get. I wasn’t having any luck with words, but maybe I could show her how I felt. Dragging my mouth from hers, I scooped her into my arms and carried her down the hall. She twined her arms around my neck, craning up to close her teeth over the side of my jaw.
“Hurry up,” she breathed against my skin.
I practically flew to the bedroom we’d been sharing, setting her on her feet only long enough to pull her shirt over her head, shove down her jeans, and lift her. I tossed her on the bed and pulled the jeans from where they’d puddled around her feet. She lay back, lifting her arms above her head, arching her back—her full breasts sliding to the sides, round and plump. She looked at me with hot eyes, no longer flat or polite in the least.
“Get undressed,” she ordered.
I was happy to follow that command, dropping my clothes in a pile on top of hers. I dove onto the bed, kneeling on the end, running my hands up the insides of her legs. I pushed them up and back at her knees, spreading her wide.
And then I feasted.
I already knew I loved the taste of Sylvie—salty and sweet—but it was the sounds she made as I licked and tasted. The surprised gasps, the keening cry. I sucked on her clit, sliding a finger inside, then a second, stroking her slick heat until she came in my mouth, crying out my name.
She panted for breath as I worked my way up her body, dipping a tongue in her belly button, dropping feather-light kisses along her ribs. Stopping at her breasts, I filled my hands, squeezed, sliding my thumbs over her nipples until she writhed against me. I tasted her collarbone, the hollow behind her ear.
Finally, kissing her. Taking her mouth in slow, long kisses. Letting the heat from her orgasm fade and then building it again until she was turned on her side, a leg hooked over my hip. My hard cock was between us, my mouth on her nipple, her name on my lips.
“Eli,” she breathed. “Eli, please.”
I pressed inside her, shuddering at her tight, wet heat, the rock of her hips. She urged me deeper, but I wasn’t going to rush, no matter how much I wanted it.
I filled her, sliding my arms under her back, holding her close. Her nipples were hard points against my chest, her legs locked around my hips, her head tipped back. And all I could say was “Sylvie. Sylvie. Sylvie,” like a chant.
All I wanted was this woman as close to me as I could get her. How could she not feel what we had? How could she not want more? She convulsed around me, orgasm taking her almost by surprise, given the way she shouted my name. I couldn’t hold back. I followed her, the pulse of her body around my cock sharp with bliss.
When I got my breath, I rolled out of bed to take care of the condom, hoping things would be back to normal when I returned. I came out of the bathroom to find the lights out and the bed empty. Her clothes were missing from the floor at the foot of the bed. I tugged on my boxers and strode across the hall, suddenly furious, ready to bang on her door and demand an explanation.
But the hitch of her breath on the other side of the door stopped me.
Was she crying?
I stood there holding my breath and leaned my forehead against the door. I heard it again—a low, faint whimper followed by a hitching sound.
Fucking hell. She was crying.
I lifted my hand and pressed my palm silently against the wood, wanting more than anything to open the door. I couldn’t leave her like that. The idea of walking away while she wept alone in the dark was not going to fucking happen.
I knocked lightly. “Sylvie. Talk to me, please.”
She drew in a breath. I caught the rustle of sheets, and then, “I’m tired, Eli. Just go to sleep. It’s better like this.”
“The fuck it is,” I said. “Will you please talk to me?”
“There isn’t anything to talk about. Let it be, okay? This was a bad idea.”
“The only thing that was a bad idea,” I said through the door, “was me not telling you the truth about Silas. I can’t go back and fix that.”
“I know, Eli. I know you can’t. Look, it’s fine. This will all be over soon, but for now, I want to get some sleep. Please, just let me go to sleep.”