Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
‘Behave,’ I order, tossing her onto the bed and quickly following her down, trapping her before she has the chance to gather her bearings and escape. Sitting on her upper thighs, I pin her arms under my knees and hold up the tub of ice cream, smiling down at her persistent wiggling. ‘Well, well, well,’ I muse, and she stills, panting hard. ‘Seems you’re at my mercy.’ I sit the tub just shy of her chest, watching as it dips when she sucks in air.
‘Ryan.’
‘Ryan, what?’ I ask, taking a spoonful and slipping it into my mouth, rolling it around. ‘Stop?’ I slowly bend, lowering toward her breast. ‘Don’t stop?’ She surprises me when she wrenches an arm free, but I quickly seize it and slam it down to the bed, continuing my descent, wrapping my mouth around her nipple and letting the ice cream coat it.
‘You bastard,’ she breathes, but that breath quickly turns into a moan when I slather her boob with my hot mouth, dousing down the cold. ‘Ohhhhh.’
That’s more like it. Surrender. I release her hand when she fights with me, knowing she’s past wanting to inflict pain. She needs something to hold on to, and I happily volunteer my hair, leading her hand there. I wince with her first yank and return the favour by clamping down on her nipple, tugging threateningly, pulling a long, drawn-out hiss from her. ‘Stop?’ I ask, taking more ice cream and moving to her other boob. ‘Don’t stop?’
She forces my face onto her chest, and I feast on her, wondering if Chunky Monkey has ever tasted so good. She writhes, arches, throws her head back, and each lap of my tongue seems to send her crazier and crazier, her hands yanking at my hair viciously. Tell me this isn’t fucking heaven. Tell me there’s a place I’d rather be.
‘You. Taste. Incredible,’ I mumble, dipping my hand in for more ice cream and scooping out a huge blob. I slap it on her other boob and massage it in while I devour the other. I’m in my element. Then suddenly . . . not.
‘Ryan!’ Hannah yelps. ‘Ryan, stop!’ Her panicked voice snaps me from my euphoria in a split second, and I scramble up, knocking the tub of ice cream onto the bed.
‘Shit, what?’ I ask, my frantic eyes scanning her, searching for what the problem is. She winces, pain invading her face, and doesn’t that just rocket my worry. ‘Fucking hell, Hannah, tell me what’s wrong.’ I faff at her with my hands, not sure what to do, where to touch, how to help.
‘Just give me a moment,’ she wheezes, trying to sit up. I rush to help, easing her up carefully, searching for more signs of discomfort. This horrible pain inside me – it’s fear, I think. I’ve never felt anything like it. I feel helpless. Useless. All I can do is wait for her to enlighten me as to what’s wrong. So I sit and wait, seeming patient, but feeling anything but.
‘Hannah?’ I say softly, unable to stand the torment any longer.
Slowly, she looks up at me. I feel my head pulling back on my neck, my uncertainty crippling. Her face is a blank canvas. There’s no clue there for me to read, nothing to tell me what on earth is going on.
‘I’m sorry,’ she barely whispers, holding her hand out to me. I stare at it for a second before I gingerly reach out, taking a hold.
‘For what?’ Whatever it is, it can be fixed. I know it can be fixed.
She inhales, as if building strength to say what needs to be said. I fear the worst. ‘Ryan.’ Her eyes zero in on mine. I hate the resoluteness I see there. I find myself moving back, as if my instinct is trying to pull me away from the danger.
‘What?’ I reply quietly. Fuck me, have I ever been so nervous?
She’s suddenly moving, so fast I don’t have time to even blink my vision clear. What the fuck? She crashes into me, her palms meeting my shoulders and launching me back onto the mattress. I land with a thud, blinking, looking around, confused. My wrists are grabbed. They’re thrust above my head. My waist is straddled. And a face appears, floating above me, the grin splashed across it smug.
‘Your turn.’ She blows the words across my skin.
And I get mad. I can’t help it. ‘For Christ’s sake, Hannah. I was worried!’
‘Good.’ She wrestles my arm down to my side and secures it with her knee before repeating on the other side. My eyebrow cocks as I watch her. This is ridiculous. We both know I’d break free with one flex of a muscle. But I let her have her moment. She deserves it, the sneaky little fucker. My heart feels like it’s been through the wringer a million times. But now it’s lowering to a more stable beat that’s not likely to kill me on the spot, I relax, happy to watch her think she has control. It’s endearing.