Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I have strong feelings for you too, Braden.”
He shakes his head, threads his fingers through his disheveled hair. “No. You don’t understand. They’re…disturbing.”
He’s used that word before. I don’t want to disturb him.
“Braden…”
“No! Don’t talk. Don’t tell me what I’m feeling is normal, that it’s okay. Fuck!”
Then a sound comes from his throat. It’s not a groan or a growl. No. It’s more like… More like…
A roar.
He picks up one of the parfait glasses filled with chocolate mousse. “I’ll take you to New York, Skye. I’ll take you back to the club, because the truth is, I want it, too. I want it more than you can possibly imagine. The timing sucks. I’ll have to rearrange some things. But I’ll do it. I’ll do it because I’ll do fucking anything to make sure you never cry like that again.”
“I can’t promise that—”
“Quiet! I told you not to talk!”
I press my lips together.
He sticks one finger into the chocolate and then holds it to my lips. “Taste.”
I lick the rich sweetness from him and savor its creaminess.
Then he kisses me—an openmouthed kiss where he swirls his tongue over my teeth and gums and then releases me.
“Delicious,” he says. “Rich, creamy, dark. But not nearly as delicious as you are.”
My body throbs.
“I’m going to paint you with mousse and then lick it off you.”
“The bedding. It will—”
“No talking! Do you think I care about the bedding? It can be cleaned. It can be replaced. Right now, I need you, Skye. I want to eat your chocolate mousse off your beautiful body, and I mean to do it.”
I lie flat and close my eyes.
“Oh, no,” he says. “You keep your eyes open. You’re going to watch everything I do to you.” He scoops out more mousse with his fingers and paints it over each of my nipples.
They were already hard, but the coolness of the mousse combined with the heat of Braden’s fingers makes them strain farther. Braden hovers over me, his lips close to my nipple. I arch my back, trying to make the chocolate-laden nipple reach his lips.
Still, he teases me. Makes me want him even more.
And of course, that’s what he’s trying to do.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says. “Love your tits.” Finally, he licks the mousse off one nipple.
“Oh God…”
“No talking,” he growls against my flesh.
I strain forward, undulating my hips, trying to reach his tongue again.
He nibbles on the other nipple, licking away the chocolate and then sucking my nipple between his lips. I moan, my pussy aching. Friction. I need friction on my clit, but I can’t find it. His dick is hard, but it’s between my thighs as he sucks my nipples.
And oh, he’s a god at sucking my nipples.
My whole body is blazing, aching, yearning for more, more, more…
He scoops out more dessert, this time onto my abdomen, and then he licks it off, each stroke of his tongue sending me further into a heated frenzy.
He’s so close… So close to my clit.
Finally, he covers my pussy in mousse, the heat of my body melting it onto the covers. But if he doesn’t care, why should I?
“I can’t imagine anything making you taste better than you already do, but let’s see.”
He dives in, sucking the chocolate off me, pulling at my folds with his lips and teeth, shoving his tongue deep inside me. Then licking down farther still, where the mousse has trickled over my asshole.
I shiver.
Is tonight the night?
“No,” he says against my flesh, as if reading my mind. “We’ll save that for New York.”
I’m both relieved and disappointed, but those emotions flee as he eats me, swirling his tongue around my clit and then shoving it inside my heat.
He plunders me, devours me, all the while I chase the peak that eludes me. I reach upward to grasp the rungs of the headboard.
Even unbound, I want to be bound. Want to be laid out for Braden’s pleasure.
Not want. Need.
“God, delicious,” he murmurs against my flesh. “I could eat you forever.”
My fists clench around the wood, and when he nips my clit, I let go and fly, tingles shooting in toward my core and then outward, through my fingertips, taking me on the wild ride I’ve become accustomed to—the climax only Braden can give me.
I moan. I shout. Not in words but in pure emotion.
Vaguely, I’m aware of Braden crawling upward, kissing my nipples, my chest, my neck.
Then his cock is inside me, and he’s thrusting, pumping, making glorious love to me as my climax continues.
Still I grasp the headboard, my bindings only Braden’s will or my own. I don’t know which, because they’re bound together. His will and mine.
He meets my gaze, our eyes locked, as sweat protrudes from his forehead, making his dark hair stick to his face.
“I love you, Skye,” he pants. “I fucking love you.”