Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
I returned to the living room and paused at what I saw. Greta sat cross-legged, one side of her top still pulled down and she stared down at my ring that she held in her palm.
I should have left the ring at home in New York.
I walked over to her and sank down beside her. She still wasn’t looking at me. Seeing her hold my ring, I wished she would have said yes to me a year ago.
“Cressida doesn’t care about me. The only thing she cares about is the status a marriage to me brings her. I’m a means to an end, not the goal. We can’t stand each other.”
Suddenly she stood, her expression guilt-ridden. “I shouldn’t have called you. I don’t know what got into me. I promised myself to forget you.”
I pushed onto my knees and gripped her hips, peering up at her. “I knew I’d never manage to forget you and I thought about you every single day. You won’t believe how often I considered leaving New York and kidnapping you from Las Vegas so we could live somewhere far away. Just us.”
“Just us,” she whispered reverently then her smile turned sad. “But it’s not just us. We both have people we don’t want to leave behind and you have your responsibilities to the Famiglia and I have my animals.”
“I regret every moment I’m not with you.” The words left my mouth without thinking, but I immediately knew I meant them. It was why I hadn’t hesitated to come here. The prospect of seeing Greta again had filled me with more joy and hope than I’d experienced in a very long time.
Greta stepped closer and touched my head with both her hands. I leaned my forehead against the bare skin of her sternum, my eyes closing. Her fingers raked through my hair gently, her nails scraping over my scalp in a way that almost made me want to purr. One of her hands traced the back of my head then stroked along my neck. Her touch was gentle, but left fire in its wake. My face slid lower and I let out a low breath against her belly, and Greta’s body under me twitched. I brought my palms up from her hips to her naked waist, feeling her goosebumps as I slid my head even lower until my rough cheek rested against the silky skin of her belly and it felt like paradise. Her vanilla scent enveloped me. I opened my eyes and peered at Greta’s skin right before me. After a while of her stroking my neck and my thumbs stroking her waist, a warm, heady scent wafted into my nose.
At first I was sure my mind was playing tricks on me. I drew in an even deeper breath, my head tilted further down and the note hit me again, even stronger. I released a harsh breath, causing Greta to suck in her belly in a soft exhale. “Your breath against my skin…” she whispered, then trailed off.
I lifted my head, searching her eyes.
They were trusting and warm. “It feels good.”
I pressed my head against her belly once more, desire flooding my veins. I took her words as encouragement and pressed a feather-soft kiss to her belly button.
“I’ve never felt this way, Amo,” Greta admitted.
I had a feeling I knew what she meant and it was like fuel for my desire. “Aroused?”
Her fingers on my neck tightened and a new ripple of goosebumps overcame her body. I held her gaze, needing to see her face when she replied.
Her cheeks turned pink at her admittance, and if the heat of her belly was any indication, her body was aflame with desire. “It’s wrong of me to desire you, isn’t it.”
“Is it?” I rasped. In this moment I didn’t care if I committed a sin—fuck, sinning was in my nature—if it was wrong. I wanted the woman before me. I wanted nothing else.
I could see the confusion on her face. Maybe she didn’t realize how her body was responding to me, or maybe she was scared of her own reaction.
“Right now, right here, it’s only us. This is our moment. Pretend the world ends tomorrow.”
Greta opened her mouth, her expression argumentative.
“Pretend,” I murmured, licking along the waistband of her skirt. Greta’s fingers against my neck flexed.
“If tonight was my last night, I’d want to spend it with you,” Greta said.
I wrapped my arms around her hips, and buried my face against her lower belly, my lips practically at level with her pussy.
I drew in another deep breath and the intensity of her scent would have brought me to my knees if I weren’t already kneeling. “Greta,” I rasped. “Will you let me pull down your skirt?”
“Yes”, came her instant reply. I moved my head back a few inches before I hooked my fingers in her waistband and tugged it down. It slid over her slightly curved hips, down her slim legs, leaving her in white lace hipster panties and her crop top. I drank her in, the small gap between her thighs that accentuated her mound even more.