Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
His voice is low, gravelly as he bites out, “That’s my shirt.”
I can only nod, but then I somehow get out, “Mine now.”
His lips quirk at the side, and I love that damned lazy grin. My own lips curve and his eyes darken, his jaw going tight. “Just as that’s my name on your thigh, huh?”
I feel like I’m being electrocuted as his eyes roam down my body to where my thighs are pressed tightly together. If he thought that comment would shut me up, he must have forgotten who I am. As much as I want to sound like a sultry kitten, I sound like a drowning cat as I croak out, “I thought you were the perfect gentleman when you were showering me?”
His eyes snap to mine, his fingers dancing along my jaw. “My hands were, but my eyes weren’t.”
I part my lips, and his gaze burns my body to ash. He’s the only one who can do that to me. Set me on fire so badly, I would beg to burn in his flames. He exhales a shaky breath before he pulls at my bottom lip with his thumb. “That tattoo will be on our agenda.”
“I look forward to our meeting, Dr. Adler.”
Quinn licks his lips, his eyes wild and blown out as they stay set on me. I can’t help but get the feeling he wants to kiss me, but when I rise up farther on my knees, he steps back, shaking his head.
“Behave,” he grinds out, but I don’t believe him. I lean my head to the side, eyeing him through my lashes.
Finally sounding like a sex kitten, I ask, “Do you really want me to?”
His chest rises and falls as his eyes continue to bore into mine. I almost think he’s going to ask me to do anything but behave, but then, without warning, he turns and leaves my room like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
I fall back on my haunches, a grin pulling at my lips.
Hmm… His actions speak way louder than his words.
Chapter
Nineteen
Quinn
“Behave.”
Emery’s wide eyes darken, the gray turning to storm clouds as her lips curve up into the kind of smirk that makes it really hard to remember she isn’t my bride. Her thighs are squeezed tight together, her black nails digging into the flesh where I want my nails. The contrast of her nails to her skin has me fighting for breath, but then I notice her nipples are hard against her shirt while her face flushes with the same pink that her pussy was last night.
The same pussy that my name was so close to.
The same pussy I want more than I want my next meal.
With her voice deep and sultry in a way that has me wanting to fuck her until she can’t walk, she asks, “Do you really want me to?”
No, I don’t fucking want her to.
I don’t want to behave.
But I have to.
Without another word, I hightail it out of there and go to my room. Then I’m pacing, my heart slamming hard against my chest as I pant. My cock is throbbing in my shorts, my balls aching to the point I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I swallow, and without much thought, I head to the bathroom. I turn on the shower before quickly making sure the door to her room is locked before ripping off my clothes. I need a shower, but I need to fucking come more than that. I step under the cold stream, hoping it’ll cool me down, but it doesn’t.
I don’t think anything will.
What was I fucking doing in there? I only wanted to check in on her, but then I started talking and couldn’t stop. I couldn’t get enough of how fucking sexy she looked on her knees before me. How her shirt rode up those thighs and her eyes never left mine. She is fucking stunning, even hungover. I said entirely too much, and I couldn’t stop myself from asking her to sit down with me. There is so much that needs to be said, and I realize that, but what could possibly come of it? I can’t call off the wedding with Ava, so do I tell Emery the truth? Do I brace myself for the hurricane that will develop once she knows?
I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do here?
Follow my heart and lose everything?
Or continue as a hollow shell of a man and keep everything I’ve worked for?
This is a fucking disaster.
I don’t even know if I can handle a conversation with Emery, but damn it, I want to.
Just as I want to fucking come before I die.
I grip my cock. It’s harder than steel, pulsing in my grip as I give myself a tug. I run my thumb along the tip, hissing out a breath as I think of her hands on me. Her nails digging into my thigh as she strokes my cock with her other hand. How her eyes would be dark and hooded, only on me as she pulled me from root to tip. She looks divine on her knees for me. Wanton, needy, and all fucking mine. But like the naughty little lovebug she is, she wouldn’t be satisfied with just touching me—no, my baby would want to taste me. She’d want to choke on my cock and draw her name from my lips. I start to tug harder, heat gathering in my spine as I imagine her mouth around my cock. My grip tightens as my head falls back, my breaths coming out in pants as I imagine Emery taking my cock so deep into her mouth until she gags and those stubborn eyes weep for me.