Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Do you smell the sweet scent of your arousal?” he rumbles, bracing his knee between my legs and leaning toward me, then without warning, he closes his mouth over the sharp peak of my nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. “You’re addictive.”
I arch my back off the cushion, trying to offer more of myself to him, but I’m at his mercy and can only take as much as he’s giving.
His tongue continues working over my nipple when I feel his hand slide down the inside of my thigh, and my breath catches, my body jolting as he reaches my drenched core. Hunger pulses through my body, and desperation keeps me on edge as he slowly pushes two thick fingers deep inside me, taking me inch by inch.
My body squirms beneath him, but he doesn’t relent, doing it again and again, curling his fingers inside me before pulling them free and rolling them straight over my clit. I gasp, already trembling as my hips jolt against the cushion. He does it again, this time adding more pressure as his fingers rub smaller, tighter circles. It’s everything.
His other hand roams across my waist, exploring my skin, and every brush of his fingers sets me on fire. It’s different from last week. That was crazed desperation, but there’s something so sensual about this. It’s as though he’s committing every inch of me to memory, and I fucking love it.
Not wanting to waste an opportunity, my hands explore, touching every inch of him. Grazing my nails across his chest, his abs, and his strong arms before reaching higher and brushing my fingers across the stubble on his sharp jaw. Even in this darkness, it’s clear that he’s attractive. How could he not be? The confidence of this man can only come from someone who’s capable of making women fall to their knees, and despite knowing he must have been with countless women, I’m proud to be one of the many.
He works my body right to the edge, pushing his fingers back inside of me as he uses his thumb to keep working my clit. I’m so close, but I need so much more. I need to feel him. Then understanding my wild desperation, he doesn’t try to stop me when I reach for the front of his jeans. Instead, he pops the button with ease and frees his massive cock as he shifts higher, his lips coming back to the base of my throat.
I feel that addictive piercing as his cock falls against the inside of my thigh, and I can’t resist curling my hand around him, gently squeezing and roaming my fist up and down. I can barely fit my whole hand around him, and just as I stretch my thumb across his tip, he plunges his fingers deeper.
My body spasms as my orgasm blasts through me like a fiery explosion, and the sound of his hiss as I circle his tip somehow makes it stronger. “Oh, God,” I groan, my grip tightening on his thick cock as my walls convulse around his fingers.
I can’t hold still. My whole body squirms with the sweetest pleasure. “Yes, Little Birdy. Just like that. Show me how you come on my fingers.”
I still, unease derailing me like a freight train.
With his lips so close to my ear, I hear him loud and clear, and that tone . . . I know that fucking tone better than I know the reflection that stares back at me every morning in my bathroom mirror.
Horror slams through my body, and without a single second of hesitation, I release my hold around his cock and bring my foot up, slamming it against his chest and forcing him as far away as I possibly can.
That voice could only belong to one man.
Izaac fucking Banks.
14
IZAAC
No. No. No. No. No.
How could I have let this happen?
My chest aches from when she shoved me away, but I barely even notice it as she scrambles to get to her feet, hastily climbing off the large ottoman.
She knows. She fucking knows.
I hear her feet against the floor as she strides toward me. “It’s you, isn’t it?” she demands, her voice shaky and filled with deep betrayal. She brushes her hand against my cheek as if tracing the lines of my face that she committed to memory by the time she was ten years old.
“Aspen,” I breathe, not knowing what to say or how to fix this, all I know is that I fucked up, and now, hearing that thick betrayal and fear in her tone, there’s no denying it. Things will never be the same again.
Hearing her name on my lips is all the confirmation she needs, and she hastily pulls away. “FUCK,” she cries out, and without being able to see that beautiful face, I know there are tears streaming down her cheeks. “How could I be so stupid?”