Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
My heart is racing.
My knees are weak.
My head is spinning.
I want to run, to remove myself from the situation, but I hold steady. I know this man. He’s never given me any reason to think he would hurt me or take advantage of me. However, we’re here alone. Locked in this room. I start to panic when I feel his lips press to my quivering belly.
“Breathe, baby,” he says, keeping his voice soft. “It’s just me.”
I nod. I don’t bother to hide the panic. I know he can see it written all over my face. I open my mouth to explain, but the words won’t come out.
“You’re beautiful, Briar. Every fucking inch of you.”
“Stretch marks,” I mumble.
He smiles. It’s soft and endearing, and my muscles relax from that simple act alone. “Those marks brought you two very adorable little girls. They’re a part of you and your journey to becoming a mom. They’re sexy because they’re a part of you, Briar.”
His palms fall to my ankles on each leg, and he slowly trails them up. When he reaches my thighs, he presses a tender kiss to each, before doing the same to my belly. Climbing to his feet, his eyes stay on mine as his hands roam over my ribs. When he reaches my breasts, I suck in a sharp breath as he tests their weight in the palms of his hands.
“Should I stop?”
I shake my head because I’m not capable of words. What I can do is feel. His hands are rough yet soft at the same time. His touch is tender, yet it lights a fire inside me that I’ve never felt before. Heat pools between my thighs, and I wonder if he knows. Can he see what he’s doing to me? Does he know that my body craves him, when my mind still tells me to be cautious?
His thumbs brush over my nipples, and I can’t stop the moan that falls from my lips. My face heats with embarrassment, but not enough for me to ask him to stop. Not even when he leans in close, and his hot breath fans over my breasts. His eyes never leave mine.
“Are you good?”
I nod.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I shake my head.
“Words, baby. I need to hear them.”
“N-No.”
He watches me, looking for what I’m not sure, but he must find it, because he closes the last little bit of distance, and runs his tongue over one nipple then the next. My hands move to his shoulders. I don’t know if I want to push him away or pull him closer.
“Forrest.” I breathe his name like a soft caress.
“What do you need?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He takes another taste of one nipple, then the next before his lips trail over my collarbone and up my neck. He slides one hand behind my neck, the other around my waist, and pulls me in close. My chest rises and falls as if I’ve just run a marathon. My knees are wobbly at best. My hands are clammy, my heart feels like it might explode, and my panties are ruined.
I’m on sensory overload.
He leans in, and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch mine. They never come. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine. That’s when I focus on him. His breathing is also labored, and his grip on both my neck and my waist is tight, as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
“You’re beautiful, Briar. The most beautiful and sexy woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Thank you for trusting me and for giving me this moment with you.” He pulls away, pressing his lips to my forehead.
Reaching around me, he grabs the blanket and wraps it around me. I grip it tightly, not wanting it to fall again. Not that it matters at this point. He’s seen all of me already. Well, all but what my black lace panties are hiding. He grips my hips, and he lifts me to the table. He moves the blanket out of the way and gets to work shaving my thigh before applying the stencil. My heart is pounding, and I’m sure he can hear it. I expel a heavy breath as he stands from his stool to get out of the way, and I watch as he adjusts himself.
He’s hard.
For me.
“Let’s take a look.” His voice is gravelly. He again lifts me from the table and guides me to stand before the full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
I have to swallow a few times and clear my throat to find my voice. “I like them both.”
He smiles. “Me too, baby. Your shoulder is easier to hide. We could move this up to your hip.” His hand reaches under the blanket and gently traces my hips.
“I think the shoulder is my favorite. It will feel more appropriate to show the girls.”