Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“I’ll just follow you.” She falls into step behind me, only stopping briefly by the hall closet to drop her coat on a hook.
Her boots thud softly against the antique rugs as we move through the living room, dining area, and into the kitchen. She continues to the windows over the sink. I keep the lights off as I toss the cups in the trash can, then join her.
“You like the river view?” I ask. From here you can barely make out the black river water sliding through the darkness down below.
She reaches out, tracing her fingertips over the glass.
Her sleeve shifts, falling down her arm, revealing the faint green shimmer pulsing beneath her skin.
My stomach tightens.
She turns her head, peering up at me with a soft, gentle expression. “It tingles.”
“That’s probably not great.”
She presses her lips together and smooths her expression so fast, it seems she’s trying not to worry me. That’s admirable but impossible.
“Nothing major. More like it wants me to know it’s paying attention.” Her lips flicker into a quick grin.
I step behind her, closing the distance enough that her back brushes my chest as her breathing picks up.
“Still not great,” I murmur.
Her breath hitches. “I’m fine.”
“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask.
She turns, her body dragging against mine, the friction shooting sparks to every inch of me. She loops her arms around my neck and stares into my eyes, sweet and earnest. “I had fun with you.”
The faint glow pulses near my cheek where her sleeve has slipped to her elbow. I lower my head and skim my lips over her wrist. The mark brightens, a soft shimmering thrum against my mouth, as if reacting with pleasure to my touch.
“That doesn’t hurt,” she whispers.
“Good. I don’t want anything to hurt you.” Especially me.
She leans up on tiptoes and presses her lips to mine.
The kiss starts soft, more questioning than demanding, but the heat behind her touch unravels me fast. She slides her fingers into my hair, urging me closer with an urgency that sends warmth rushing through my chest.
I deepen the kiss, hands settling at her waist. She melts into me, body warm and eager. I curl my hands around her waist, gathering the soft wool of her sweater between my fingers. Effortlessly, I lift her onto the edge of the kitchen counter, and she wraps her legs around me, drawing me closer.
“Declan,” she gasps against my mouth, her fingers tightening in my hair, tugging enough to send a jolt down my spine.
I break our kiss and trail my lips down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, savoring the faint tremor of her pulse racing under my tongue.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I murmur against her skin.
Without waiting for her answer, I slide my hands under her thighs and lift her off the counter. She fits against me like she was made to—a soft exhale against my ear, fingers tightening at the back of my neck. Every inch of her presses into me as I carry her out of the kitchen and into the narrower back staircase.
“I can walk.” Emery laughs, her breath warm against my cheek. “I think. Set me down.”
I snort and keep moving. “I’ve got you.”
We pop out of the staircase at the end of the upstairs hall, across from my bedroom.
“Ooo, a fancy, secret staircase,” she teases, running her fingers through my hair. “Conveniently close to your room.”
“Glad you remember.”
“How could I forget?” She nods toward the console table against the wall. “You gave me a mind-blowing orgasm right there on top of that fancy antique.”
“Mind-blowing, huh?”
In my room, moonlight filters through the half-drawn curtains, painting her in silvery-blue shadows. I set her on her feet beside the bed and slide my hands under the hem of her sweaterdress, pushing it up over her head. Her hair spills free and she shakes it out of her face.
“This is really pretty on you,” I say, tossing it toward the chair in the corner and missing. “But I need it off now.”
She laughs, the movement jiggling her breasts in the most enticing way.
I yank my shirt over my head, unbuckle my belt, and glance up just as she bends forward on the mattress, fingers curled in the laces of her boots.
“I’ve got that,” I say, my voice rough and urgent, kneeling in front of her, a penitent ready to atone for my sins. My fingers graze hers as I take over, quickly working the long line of laces loose. I slip off one boot, dropping it on the floor with a muted thud. I tug off the thick sock she’s wearing, my hands lingering on her foot for a moment, my thumb pressing gently into her arch.
“Ooo,” she moans. “That’s nice.”
“Your feet hurt?” I work slow circles into a spot that makes her toes flex. She sighs, warm and open, trusting enough to give me every small reaction.