Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Chapter Eight
Mason
I’m frozen, gripping the desk in the dark. I’m captivated by the sexy-as-fuck strip show Mia has no idea she’s giving me. She’s so fucking beautiful. I watch her towel fall to the floor and then her searching through her bag. I get so hard it’s almost painful to watch her hold up the nightgown, knowing she’s about to cover her body from me.
I stand up and cross over to her, muttering her name on the way.
She turns just as I get to her, and I know she’s surprised that I’m standing here. I stand over her, breathing her in, feeling every move she makes because we are so close. “We’re supposed to consummate the marriage, Mia.” My voice is rough and gravely, filled with emotion. “I turned down the lights… I know my scar…”
She leans her head back to look up at me. “I don’t care about your scar,” she says vehemently and then softens. “I mean, I care how you got it, but I don’t care like you think I do. I, well, uh, I still want you.”
I cup her face to keep her looking at me. “Earlier—"
“Earlier I needed to shower. That’s the only reason I tensed up. I want this, I want it with you. And not because we have to or whatever. Because I want you.” She blows a breath out, frustrated by the way my thoughts are going.
I barely let her get the words out before I have her up in my arms, and I lay her back on the bed. She’s still gripping her nightgown in front of her, and I take it, pulling it away from her and tossing it to the end of the bed.
Standing over her, I look at every exposed part of her, taking it all in, committing it to memory. She’s breathtaking.
I lean forward and rub my knuckles along her cheek before I stroke them down her neck, across her shoulder, and down to the very peak of her breast. She trembles underneath my touch. I palm her breast, caressing her as her back arches off the bed, pushing herself deeper into my hand.
“Mason…” she moans.
“Yes?” I answer, caressing both her breasts.
“Will you kiss me… there?” she asks me huskily.
I smile, not believing that this perfect woman is my wife. My answer to her is to lean forward and replace my hand with my mouth. I suckle her as I let my hand slide between her thighs, cupping her sex. One swipe through her sex, I find her wet and ready for me.
Kissing down her body, she mewls and makes the sexiest noises, but as soon as my lips graze her mound, she’s silent, and her body tenses up. I kiss along her opening, smoothing my tongue along her, savoring her taste.
Her hand goes to the back of my head and threads through my hair. I press my tongue to her bundle of nerves, and her body bucks against me. “Yes…” she moans.
I don’t relent. I apply pressure with my tongue and beg for her release. Soft, fast, slow, hard, I change it up until I learn how her body reacts, and I know what she likes and what she wants. When I’ve barely gotten my fill of her, she’s already mindless, pushed over the edge, coming on my tongue. I lap at her, kissing her most private area, loving her until she’s limp and delirious.
Mia
He gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had. He kisses up my body, and when he’s next to me, I kiss him softly before scooting down the bed to return the favor.
“No, honey.”
His harsh words are grunted at me, and I look at him with some sort of shock. “I want to…”
“I won’t even last. I need to be inside you. Now! All I’ve thought about since I saw you in that other man’s arms is being inside you, taking you and making you mine, making you forget every man that’s ever held you before,” he pleads with me, pushing me to my back and rolling on top of me.
“Man, what man?” I ask him, not having a clue who he’s talking about.
“The man from the plane.”
“Se—" But I don’t get his name out.
He stops me with a groan as his head falls to my chest. “I don’t even want to hear you say his name.”
I smile then, not believing the control that I have over this brute of a man, my husband. “Me too, Mason. I felt the same way when I saw you. I wanted you to be mine.” I run my hands down his chest, between his legs, taking his girth in my hands. “I wanted you like this.”
He hisses, and his hips buck into my hand as I stroke him.
There’s fire in his eyes as he lowers to his knees and sits up, lining his hardness to my opening. For one brief second, I’m nervous. “Please be easy, Mason,” I ask him.