Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Me too.” She gasped as he shifted his hips, their clothing rasping in the silent room. “All of your weight. All of it.”
“You want some more? Take it. Like I said, I’m not stopping until your thighs melt.” He shoved her knees up toward her shoulders, shuddering into a rake of mouths, a grinding of flesh. “Can I be rough with you tonight, Chloe?” he panted, sipping at the seam of her lips. “Gentle isn’t how I feel about you.”
Tingles were racing to the crown of her head. “How do you feel?”
“Choked up. Possessive. Like my goddamn blood is on fire.” He wrapped her hair in a fist and tugged her head back, groaning against the length of her exposed throat, razing her sensitive skin with his bared teeth. “I need to fuck my girl. Now.”
Chloe abandoned any remaining thought or care or worry, exchanging them for immediate needs. Necessities. And Sig was her only one. She licked the line of his jaw and latched her teeth to his ear, satisfied when his breath caught, his shaft swelling against her sex.
“Rip off my panties and finally fuck me then.”
Chapter Seventeen
He’d dreamed of being dirty talked to by Chloe Clifford.
Dreamed it so many times. Hearing her sweet and refined Connecticut voice popping off with something filthy—but goddamn, as many times as he’d imagined Chloe saying the words fuck me, he wasn’t prepared. As in, his body, his psyche, his dick . . . none of them were ready. Anticipation welled so deeply inside of Sig, he couldn’t even tell where the overflow was happening. Only that it reached his throat, his chest, his fingertips, and he could barely form a cohesive plan to give her an orgasm. Also known as the only thing higher on his list of needs than hearing her talk dirty.
They were frantically making out in the middle of this king-sized bed, her fingers twisting in his clothes and pulling him closer, which was a mind-blowing feeling. One he’d underestimated. Being held tight to this person, his person, as if her world would end, too, if they had to be separated and obviously, he wanted to be buried between her thighs, but he couldn’t stop kissing her. Couldn’t. They hadn’t kissed enough yet. They’d never reach a point where they’d kissed enough. God. God, she didn’t mind being messy and he loved that. She didn’t mind him humping her like he’d just been let out of prison. Didn’t mind him licking her jaw, her neck, burying his tongue so deep in her mouth, he could feel the vibration of her moan in the center of his belly.
Yeah, Sig probably wouldn’t have been able to break the chain of breathless kisses, probably would have been there until the next morning, just feeling her lips get more and more and more swollen between the legs, but she started to tilt her hips up beneath him, rubbing on his fly, her pupils like saucers—and he knew she needed to come. Soon.
“I’ll get you there, Chlo. That’s my fucking job.”
“Do it, then,” she said shakily. “Please. Please.”
A growl broke from his mouth like a thunderclap, and he forced himself to sit up slightly, straddling her body while they worked together to undress her with frenzied hands, panting and tearing at clothes, their gazes colliding and heating. More, more. Chloe drew off her shirt with a characteristic wiggle that made his throat clench even as he flipped up her skirt and yanked a tight little pair of black panties down to her ankles, his cock stiffening that final painful and urgent degree the first time he saw that beautiful blond strip of curls. Saw that place where her thighs creased, bracketing her pussy, so slippery and ready and perfect.
“It doesn’t seem possible that I’ve never seen you like this, you know?” His voice was thicker than mud. “How could I know you like the back of my hand and not know what’s under your clothes—” Sig cut himself off with a gulp as her bra was shed, leaving her naked, save the skirt flipped up at her belly. “Jesus, Chloe. You are . . . incredible.” His restraint gave out along with his stabilizing arm and he fell forward onto his dream girl who absorbed his weight with a happy gasp, threading her fingertips through his hair while his mouth found her tits, her nipples, the juicy palm-sized glory of her breasts and made out with them.
“Yes, Sig. Yes. Oh my God.”
He couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, out of pure bliss. Over the way she yanked on his hair, over the way her nipples started small, but grew big and swollen as he licked them, sucked them gently, the heel of his hand skating down her shuddering belly and kneading that wet flesh rhythmically, playing her body like an instrument he’d never played before, but was born with the expertise to make sing.