Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25267 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
I laugh, or something like it, all breathless and wild. “I’ll murder you if you stop now.”
He grins then his mouth is back on mine, hard enough to bruise, and I don’t care. I want the mark and the memory and the whole damn thing.
He gives me a little push and I fall flat on the bed, his hands never losing contact. I bounce, just a little, and it makes me laugh again. He steps back and starts ripping away his clothes, and my brain does that thing where it short-circuits.
He yanks at the button on my jeans and I lift my hips to help him shimmy them off.
Oh, God. I’m in just my favorite black lace bra and the matching panties that I mostly save for laundry day or funerals. What can I say? I went all out for this.
He stares for a long second then he drops on top of me, breathing hard, eyes black and greedy but weirdly tender, too. His palm runs down my thigh, all the way to my knee, and then back up, tracing the tattoo along my ribs. Like he’s memorizing it. Like it means something.
“Didn’t know you had this,” he mutters, thumb tracing the edge of the small rose like it’s sacred. “Fuck, it looks good on you.”
I can’t speak. My brain one hundred percent jello. I just grab him by the stupidly broad shoulders and pull him down on top of me.
His mouth is hot against my neck, my chest, everywhere. His hands slip under me, unhooking my bra and I barely have time to even feel self-conscious before he tears it away and my boobs are just out there, full display, nipples hard as rocks from the chill and the desire.
He stares until I fight the urge to wiggle on the bed then he palms my boobs, fingers spreading wide. I should be embarrassed by the loud moan that escapes me, but I’m not. Not one freaking bit.
“Oh my God.” My back arches off the bed. His hands are so big, so hot, and he handles me like I’m made of something precious. And also like he’s two seconds away from devouring me whole.
He pinches my nipple, rough and greedy, which sends electricity shooting down my spine. The other hand slides down my body, over my stomach, and hooks into my panties. He drags them down, slow, making a show of it. “Show off.”
“What am I showing off?” He smirks down at me.
“Your seduction skills.” I mutter as he kisses his way down my chest, closing his mouth over my nipple and sucking, hard.
My hands fly to his hair, clutching at the short, sweat-damp strands at the back of his head. He groans, tongue flicking over the tip, sucking again, and I lose the ability to form complete sentences. I can’t do anything except moan and writhe and hold on for dear life.
He kisses his way across my chest to the other boob, “You’re the only one I ever want to seduce.” Before I have time to respond, he gives the other nipple same ruthless, focused attention. My brain completely shuts down and I forget all about the topic.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Holy shit.”
He laughs, a low, filthy sound, but it’s with me, not at me. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
Then his mouth is everywhere. Down my ribs, pausing at my tattoo, tongue flicking over the ink. His hands never stop moving, greedy and reverent at once, squeezing my hips, spreading me open wide.
I’m laid out flat, nothing but heat and want and the desperate, slightly hysterical need to have him now.
He slides down, settles between my thighs, and just pauses to look at me. The city lights turn his hair gold at the edges, his face dark and intent.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs.
I can’t form words. I think I make a sound, but it’s swallowed up in the next second when he kisses his way up my inner thigh.
His tongue is hot, his hands heavy, and every single nerve ending in my body is screaming with want. He licks a stripe up the center of my pussy, slow, deliberate, and my hips shoot off the bed.
He moans against me, like I’m the one driving him crazy, and holy hell, that does things to me. He doesn’t rush. Just licks and sucks, using his mouth with single-minded devotion.
He pushes two big fingers into me, and I nearly lose my mind. My body clamps down, greedy, desperate.
I make a sound that is not human. More like a fire alarm, if the fire alarm could moan.
Holy. Moly. Moly.
His tongue swirls around my clit and his fingers are absolutely ruthless. He curves them just right, and suddenly I’m orbiting a different planet, somewhere between heaven and blackout.
I fumble for something to grab, digging my nails into his shoulders and he just groans like he loves it, like being suffocated by my thighs is his actual life calling.