Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Her lips were soft. Reluctant or not, she opened for him and his tongue swept inside all that heat and glorious fire. The moment he touched her, Flambé surrendered herself into his keeping. More, she gave him as good as he gave her. She matched him flame for flame. She poured liquid accelerant onto the fire, her tongue stroking along his. Dancing with his. Dueling with his. She kissed like sin. She kissed like a fucking angel.
Flambé wasn’t in the least bit passive and he knew she never would be. She had a healthy sex drive and she wasn’t ashamed of it. She would need that with him. His body raged at him without his leopard driving him. When their leopards got in on the act, the two of them were going to be in trouble. He was looking forward to it.
Kissing Flambé was dangerous, not at all soothing. It was more like lighting a match to a stick of dynamite. He wasn’t used to having reactions to women. He didn’t give a damn one way or the other about them as a rule, with the exception of his cousins’ wives. And even then, when it came to matters of security, he ruled with an iron fist. But Flambé could change all that and he wasn’t certain that was a good thing, not when there was so much ugliness in him he fought to keep suppressed.
Sevastyan lifted his head and kept pressure on her shoulder. Flambé blinked up at him like a sleepy kitten, coming out of a fog, looking adorable and sexy at the same time. The steam had put a light dew on her skin so that every inch of her seemed to glow and the pattern of the ropes gleamed red.
Her long lashes did that little flutter that always drew his attention and then she slowly began to sink down, using him to steady herself, her hands on his hips and then gliding lower as she sank. Her face pressed against his abdomen as she moved down, her breath warm. His cock became a monster, hard and aching. He felt her tongue sliding over the broad, sensitive crown, lapping greedily at the leaking drops there and then curling around his shaft and gliding up his heavy sac. Then the inside of his thighs were treated to the feel of her tongue before she settled in the tub.
Flambé drew up her knees and looked up at him, a wicked expression on her face. She raised one eyebrow before resting her chin on her knees. “I believe we were talking about sleeping arrangements.”
She was going to be a handful and he couldn’t help but love the challenge. Just because she enjoyed his art and her leopard species preferred submission to her male didn’t mean she was a pushover by any means. He was in for a lifetime of surprises. He wasn’t a man who would ever enjoy the mundane. Flambé appeared to suit him perfectly, although that meant they were going to butt heads more than he’d like.
He sank into the hot water and took the end position of the tub, waiting for her to scoot around to the opposite end. When she did and stretched out her legs, he took her foot to massage it. “You seem very stuck on the sleeping arrangements. Did you have something in mind?” He turned the tables back on her.
She rested her head on the soft pillow angled for her and closed her eyes. “I’m just tired, Sevastyan, and I guess I want to know where I stand with you. I’ve never really been in a relationship and you’re pushing us very fast. I’m willing to sleep downstairs if it makes you uncomfortable to have me be up here with you.”
She wasn’t lying. She would definitely go back downstairs to the master bedroom. That was the third time she’d suggested it. She was trying to put distance between them.
“No, baby. I want you up here with me.” He kept his voice very gentle. “I had preconceived ideas of what it would be like if I found someone. Now that I have you, those ideas aren’t the same. I want you close to me.”
Her lashes fluttered again. Lifted. She looked at him, seemingly a little hesitant. “I know you don’t want anyone sleeping in your bed with you and I understand that. I do, Sevastyan. It doesn’t hurt my feelings. I was looking at the tree in your room, which, by the way, is extremely cool. It has that little hammock hanging from a branch. I could sleep there.”
He studied the expression on her face as she made the offer. She was actually quite hopeful he would want her to sleep there, which was actually very comical. The tree and hammock had been designed as an art piece, but also to weave a woman into a tight space, possibly an uncomfortable position that would—eventually—give her a sense of rebirth. The experience could release endorphins that were both sexual in nature and a kind of euphoria for the recipient. Perhaps his little Flambé had inadvertently discovered the process without knowing what she was doing, just as a runner could release certain endorphins.