Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“I dare you to disagree with how much I like your body now,” he challenged. “My cock will disagree with you and so will my mind and heart.”
I was glad of the darkness when a smile broke out across my face, as it burned with heat.
“I can’t help how I feel about me body.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you’ll learn to love it, just as I do.”
“You love me body?”
“Yup,” he said, popping the P. “Head over heels, it’s a great body. Perfect, really.”
I giggled but stopped when the hand on my stomach slid lower and fitted itself under the band of my pyjamas trousers. My heart pounded as Damien gently nudged my thighs apart. A shiver danced its way up my spine when his large, rough hand slid over the inside of my thighs. He squeezed my flesh here and there, making my entire body come alive.
“Damien,” I whispered.
“Lana,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.”
My thighs suddenly clenched together and trapped Damien’s hand.
“Oh, you want me to touch you,” he hummed. “I can feel your muscles contracting.”
My body flushed with heat, and my legs slowly parted once again.
“There’s my girl.”
I sucked in a sharp breath when Damien’s thumb ran the length of my underwear. The friction of the fabric against my clit sent shivers up my spine.
“Damien,” I breathed.
He moved his body closer to me.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “I love how you say my name. I’ve been around Irish people a long time, but your accent is the only one that gets me hard when you speak. I love your voice.”
I remembered he had told me he loved my voice once before too, and it caused my body to shudder.
“You’re killin’ me, Dame.”
“I haven’t even warmed up yet, baby.”
The whole time he spoke, he was rubbing a lone finger up and down my slit. It felt good but not good enough. It was almost like he was teasing me by not pushing the fabric aside. With courage that I didn’t know I possessed, I reached down into my pyjama trousers, placed my hand on top of Damien’s, and manoeuvred his fingers to push the fabric of my underwear aside. When his fingers finally brushed my clit, my back arched.
“Yes!”
Damien put his mouth next to my ear and made a sound close to a snarl.
“Demanding little thing,” he said, “aren’t you?”
I moaned in response as he slid a lone finger down to my entrance. He dipped it in, once, twice, then groaned.
“You feel so hot, so wet. I can feel you wrap around my finger … I can’t wait for it to be my cock.”
Me either.
When his finger slid back up to my clit and began to swirl around it slowly but not touching it directly, I began to lose my mind. My body began to writhe from side to side, trying to force Damien’s finger onto my clit with each movement. He leaned his body against me, though, and used his weight to keep me in place as he continued his delicious torture.
“For years,” he murmured into my ear, “I’ve stroked myself and made myself come by just imagining being with you like this.”
My breathing became erratic.
“You have?”
“Hell yeah,” he growled. “I remembered what it was like to touch you, taste you, to feel you wrapped around me so tight. I came hard every single time.”
The thought of watching him touching himself sent another wave of heat through me.
“Is it true?” I suddenly asked. “What you said last week, about not touchin’ or kissin’ anyone since you last touched and kissed me?”
I haven’t touched another woman since I touched you. I haven’t kissed another woman since I kissed you.
“Every word,” Damien answered, his tongue flicking against my earlobe. “You’ve ruined me for any other woman. You’re the only one I ever want to touch again. I told you … you’re my freckles.”
I cried out when his finger finally rubbed my clit.
“Yes!” I screeched. “Yes!”
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Lips brushed against my cheek, then not a second later, they covered my own, and just like that, I was lost in Damien’s touch and taste. I loved kissing him. I once pretended that I never enjoyed the kisses I had once shared with him, just so I would never think about them, but kissing him now, I realised what an idiot I was to try to fool myself into thinking they weren’t enjoyable.
They were toe curling.
“Can I taste you?” he asked against my lips. “Please, say yes.”
“You already are.”
“No.” He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “Not your mouth, your pussy.”
He slipped his finger inside my pussy just as I clenched over his words, and he growled.
“You want me to,” he mused. “You want my tongue on you.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, please.”
He moved then, and before I could move, the blanket was pushed to the end of the bed, and my trousers and underwear were pulled down my body and flung God only knows where in the room. Hands pressed against my knees and parted my thighs wide. I jolted with surprised when lips pressed against the inside of my thighs and slowly worked their way upwards. My eyelids fluttered shut when Damien’s hands slid over my body, squeezing my flesh here and there. I moaned softly when he trailed kisses inside my thighs, his teeth nipping my skin every few seconds, making me clench with excitement.