Desolation Road – Torpedo Ink Read online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 158191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 791(@200wpm)___ 633(@250wpm)___ 527(@300wpm)
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As she moved over him, his cock grew even heavier, jerking with urgent demand, feeling the heat of her feminine build, that sweet mixture of soft skin and firm muscles sliding temptingly over it as she crawled over him. Her hands smoothed his shoulders as her mouth moved under his, spreading the flames, hotter than Hades, plunging them both deeper into a sinful mire of pure sensation. Her body slowly settled over his, and for the first time that he could ever remember, he wasn’t receiving any images other than the overriding purely erotic ones burning through Scarlet’s brain.

He was taller than she was by quite a lot and he had a reach on her. He could slide his hand all the way down her spine to the curve of her cheeks. He kneaded the exquisite flesh there. She had a beautiful ass. Perfect for him. For his needs. She had that sensual feline crawl that could make his cock so fucking hard he could barely breathe. She had beautiful breasts. She was so perfect for him in every way. Her mouth was hotter than sin and her body even hotter. That didn’t even begin to describe what he loved about her.

He rolled her over, trapping her under him, his first aggressive move, but he made certain he rolled her toward her boots, so she would feel she could reach out and snag a weapon if she felt at all threatened. He framed her face between his hands and took her mouth, not giving her a chance to cool down. He loved that mouth of hers.

She was so receptive, following his lead, making her own demands, chasing after him when he started to pull back, her hands in his hair, tugging and then stroking long caresses down his back. Several times he felt the bite of her nails as she dug her fingers into his shoulders to hang on just from their wicked kisses spiraling out of control.

He reluctantly left that perfect mouth just so he could take a bite out of her lower lip. He’d fixated on her pouty lip often in the library, thinking of the way he wanted to leave his mark there. He’d often sat right at the table, looking over the top of a book, fantasizing about sliding his cock over that pouty lip and imagining the way her lips would look stretched around his girth.

His teeth locked gently on her lower lip and he bit down and drew her lip toward him, his eyes looking directly into hers. Those green eyes of hers went wide, but she didn’t look away. The green swirled with more heat, grew even darker with lust and excitement. His heart reacted, pounding right through his cock. He let go of her lip, and then licked at the mark he’d made.

“I sat at that table so many times watching you at your desk and all I could think about was your mouth and this lower lip. Just kissing you like this. Biting your lip. Walking right up to you, unzipping my jeans, bunching all that red silk in my hands and demanding you do something to relieve the ache you put in my fuckin’ cock. Sometimes I was so hard I wasn’t sure I could walk straight.”

Her tongue touched her bottom lip right over his mark. “I wish you could have done that. I would have liked it. After hours, of course.”

“Your desk is large and when you wear that one long skirt, the ruffle one that drops to the floor, I thought I should just crawl under there and pull your panties down and see how long it takes before you’re screaming for mercy.” He kissed his way down to her chin. He was very fond of her chin. “I’m not a merciful man.”

Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted but no sound came out.

His teeth nipped before he continued kissing her throat, finding her pulse there and lingering for a few more heartbeats.

“Your skin is fucking amazing, Scarlet.” It was. So damn soft. His cock stayed nestled in the cradle of her hips and felt like he’d found a home there. His body wanted to stay stretched over hers, that smooth satiny-silk bed he claimed for his own.

To actually be with a woman and have his body react naturally to her was a miracle. To want her with his brain, to feel the way he did about her was even more than a miracle. He kissed his way over her pounding pulse, feeling the answer in his heart, rushing through his veins, through his blood, pooling in his cock.

“Love this feeling, literaturnaya ledi.” He murmured it against the top of the curve of her left breast. That lovely curve. He kissed his way over it and then the right one.



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