Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
His tongue strokes wetly over the tip of one breast, then the other, until I can’t catch my breath. Then his eyes flick up to mine at the exact moment he wraps his mouth around my nipple and sucks, an unapologetically wicked moment.
With every lick, every light scrape of his teeth, he seduces me a little further until I’m arching into him with unmistakable invitation.
Ian’s hands skim down my calves, ensuring my feet are hooked securely around his waist before scooping me off the counter.
“Impressive,” I murmur, skimming my lips over the hard plane of his cheek as he walks me toward the bedroom.
And it is. I don’t have a lot of experience, but the scoop-up-and-carry routine has been the stuff of my dirty fantasies, not real life.
But Ian’s real. He’s real, and he makes me feel both feminine and powerful, and it’s a delicious feeling.
At least until he lays me on his bed and reality sets in.
He’s in the process of unbuckling his belt when I jolt upright and crab-walk backward for some distance.
He goes still. “Lara, I’m sorry. I thought—”
“No,” I say, holding up a hand. “No, you thought right. It’s just being here in your . . .” I look around at the unmistakably masculine room. “I’m just suddenly aware that you do this a lot. Maybe in this very bed. And I . . . don’t.”
His eyes light with understanding, and though he finishes removing his belt and kicks off his shoes, the pants are still very much on when he casually plops on the bed.
He pats the spot beside him. “C’mere.”
I shake my head.
Ian rolls his eyes and reaches out, hauling me to him. I gasp a little when my bare breasts collide with his chest.
He tunnels his fingers in my hair, locking his gaze on mine. “Use that brilliant brain of yours to listen and listen good. You’re the only woman I’m thinking about, the only woman I’ve thought about since I saw you that first day in the break room.”
“Really?” I search his features but see only honesty there.
He brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Swear to God, woman, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. I’ve been waiting for it to pass, but something about you’s got me wrapped around your sexy little finger.”
“So it hasn’t passed?” I ask, setting my hand on the center of his chest, watching as I spread my fingers wide.
He takes my hand and gently lowers it until it’s resting against the unmistakable bulge in his slacks. “Definitely not.”
I move my hand slightly, stroking him.
He squeezes his eyes shut. “Lara.”
Emboldened by the huskiness of his voice, I unfasten his pants, and the rasp of the zipper as I pull it down electrifies the moment.
Sitting up, I wiggle out of my jeans before returning my attention to him, easing both pants and black briefs over his hips and down his legs, until I see Ian Bradley as he was meant to be . . .
Utterly naked and utterly mine.
Ian props himself up on his elbows, watching me with hot eyes as I run my hands over his perfect body.
I lick my lips. “I’m so out of my league.”
His gaze drops to my chest. “Not from where I’m sitting.”
Feeling bolder than I ever have in my life, I slowly wrap my fingers around him. The velvety steel leaps against my hand.
Ian’s head drops back down onto the pillow, and the way he growls my name in needy desperation causes a relentless throbbing between my legs.
I caress him tentatively, then more surely as his groans urge me on.
Until this moment—until him—I had no idea that pleasuring someone else was the most potent form of foreplay . . . for me.
Addicted to the feeling, I shift slightly so I’m on my knees. Then I bend and touch my lips to his straining erection.
“God. Lara.” His hand tentatively touches my hair.
I open my mouth and take him in. He tastes salty-sweet, and this time there’s nothing tentative about the way he touches me. His fingers tangle in my hair now, holding it back as he unabashedly watches me suck him.
I alternate between fast and slow, teasing and sure, listening to his pants to learn what he likes.
My eyes fly open as I feel his free hand skim down the length of my back, over my hip and butt. Then I moan around him as his hand nudges my thighs apart, and he works his way beneath the lace of my thong. His fingers slide over me, in me, fingering me with such torturous skill that it takes every bit of focus to keep doing what I’m doing.
It’s a wicked battle of wills, his fingers teasing me senseless, getting me close but never letting me go over the edge. I return the favor, finding the exact rhythm that makes his hips buck, only to ease back at the last minute.