Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
After taking a quick shower, I sift through my wardrobe, picking out a fitted black dress with delicate lace detailing and a flattering silhouette. It’s elegant and subtly sexy, balanced with a touch of mystery.
A quick dusting of blush and a hint of mascara later, and I’m ready to go. I throw a wrap over my shoulders, slip into a pair of heels, and make my way out into the cool evening air, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the path to Dillon’s house.
His home is nestled just at the edge of the forest, near enough to town to be convenient but distant enough to feel secluded. I love it here—the way his large home seems both stately and inviting, with beams of wood and wide, welcoming windows.
I’m greeted by the lingering aroma of something savory as I knock on the door, and Dillon’s voice responds with a welcoming, “Come in!”
I step inside, and he’s there, standing in the archway to the kitchen, wearing a casual, plaid button-down and jeans that fit just right. His smile widens when he sees me, eyes traveling appreciatively over my outfit.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, taking a step closer. “You’re gorgeous, little goddess.”
“Thank you,” I reply with a teasing grin. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He steps close and places a soft kiss on my lips. “Dinner is almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’d love some wine if you have it.” I need something to calm my insane nerves.
In the kitchen, I perch on a stool by the island, watching Dillon move with an easy grace as he pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one. I take a huge gulp.
“So, what’s on the menu tonight?” I ask, leaning forward slightly.
“Well, I wanted to keep it cozy, so I’m making us some herb-roasted chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and a side of honey-glazed carrots,” he explains, gesturing to the tantalizing spread of ingredients on the counter.
“That sounds amazing,” I reply, genuinely impressed. “Who knew you had such culinary skills hidden away?”
“Uh, this is the entire extent of my cooking repertoire,” he replies with a wink, sending me into a fit of giggles.
After we finish our intimate dinner, I offer to help Dillon clean the kitchen.
“You don’t have to help. This won’t take long.”
“It’ll take less time if we do it together.” Together, we clear the table and then slip into an easy rhythm of washing, drying, and putting dishes away.
As Dillon scrubs a dish, I stand beside him with a towel, drying each one he passes my way. A soft smile plays on Dillon's lips as he turns his head slightly to glance at me.
"Thank you for the help," he says.
"Of course," I reply, leaning in to snuggle closer to him. "Cleaning up is a small price to pay for such a delicious dinner."
"I have one more surprise up my sleeve. I hope you’ve saved room for dessert."
Dessert. The word hangs enticingly in the air as I toss the dish towel over my shoulder, watching him with playful curiosity. "And what might this surprise be?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Dillon rinses the last dish, setting it aside before turning to face me, his eyes alight with mischief. "Bethany whipped up a chocolate lava cake for us."
I step closer to him, feeling the electricity hum between us, the air thick with the promise of more. My voice drops to a soft murmur as I reply, "As delicious as that sounds, I have something else in mind for dessert."
Before I can second-guess my boldness, I let my hand drift down the front of his shirt, past the buttons, coming to rest where the fabric of his shirt meets his jeans. I feel the warmth radiating from him, the slight inhale of surprise mingled with anticipation as my fingers trace a line, teasing and deliberate.
His breath hitches, a low sound that vibrates through me, and his eyes darken to nearly black. "Emilia," he murmurs, my name a mix of hunger and shock.
I let my fingers curl slightly over the hard bulge, giving his large cock a gentle squeeze through the denim material, and tilt my head to capture his gaze. "I think I'm in the mood for something a little sweeter."
His reply is immediate, hands coming to rest on my hips, drawing me closer to him until the space between us disappears. The kitchen, with its lingering scents of dinner and warmth, becomes an intimate cocoon. "Are you trying to kill me, little goddess?" he murmurs.
“No.” I lean close and run my tongue over the vein pulsing at the base of his throat. “I’m trying to get you to move things along.”
Our lips meet, the kiss deepening, becoming more intense than any kiss we’ve shared up to now.
In the midst of it all, the kitchen fades away, and all that exists is the circle of his arms and the way he draws me into his strong embrace, how my body fits perfectly with his.