Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Suddenly, I felt water hit my back. Not raindrops, this was a solid mass of water, like I was standing under a faucet. I looked up…
Gabriel had walked us out to the edge of the overhang that had been shielding us from the rain. Inside the little cave, it was dry. Outside, the rain pounded the rocks. But just at the edge, the rain that hit the cliff and washed down it formed a solid curtain of water a few feet wide, a miniwaterfall. The water was deliciously cool after the days of heat, refreshing without making you shiver.
Gabriel gently lowered me and maneuvered us so that both of us were in the stream. The water pummeled our shoulders and rushed down our bodies, washing away the grime and stress of everything we’d been through. I turned my face up to the water and let it pound me. Then I felt Gabriel’s fingers in my hair, sliding out my hair clips. My hair slid free, and the water drew it out into long, soaking tresses. Gabriel grinned, his eyes lighting up, and he ran his fingers through it. “I didn’t get to see it properly last time,” he muttered reverently. Then he slid his palms down my slippery body, lightly squeezing my breasts, stroking my hips, my ass. I shook the water from my eyes and blinked up at him.
He ran his hands up and down my flanks, relishing the shape of me. Then he took hold of my hands and stepped back, out of the water. He kept moving back until our arms were stretched out, my fingertips only just hooking onto his.
“Look at you,” he said. The same words he’d said the very first time he met me. “Somebody ought to paint you, dammit.” He looked hungry, possessive…but there was something else, too: victory.
He was a planner, a schemer. Sitting in his jail cell, all those weeks ago, he’d had a simple, elegant plan to do his time and get rich. Then our lives had collided and since then, everything had been chaos: the prison riot, me going to Ecuador, him coming after me, the gold being at risk, the mission going wrong. But one thing had worked out just the way he’d wanted it to. I was his.
And the way he looked at me, it was as if that was all he really cared about.
I gazed at him. Water was trickling down his body from his soaked hair, making the caramel slabs of his pecs shine and running in rivulets over the deep ridges of his abs. My eyes roved lower, to the diagonal lines of his adonis belt and then down to—
I watched as his cock lifted and hardened. I could feel his eyes on me and the knowledge that it was me that was doing that to him unleashed a rush of sparkling, silver excitement in my chest.
His cock was rock-hard now, and standing to attention. He grinned at me in the way only he could, wicked and proud. And beckoned me closer.
I walked slowly towards him, the rock floor cool on my bare feet. I was falling under his spell all over again, his raw badness hypnotic. I wanted him, needed him, all the time, but this was on another level. This was instinctual, almost primal, something deep in my soul reacting with something deep in his, just as it had in prison. Good and bad. Innocent and filthy. The maiden and the highwayman. Heat was throbbing at my core, and with every step I took towards him, it grew stronger and stronger. By the time I reached him, I was breathy and twitchy, my mind clouded.
I closed the gap between us and put my palms on his chest. He stroked my breasts, and I felt his cock weighty and hot against my inner thigh. His lips twitched into a devil’s smile and he leaned down and kissed me.
I closed my eyes and gave myself up to that seductive lower lip and the ruthless, hard upper one. Then suddenly they were gone, and the warmth of his body against mine disappeared. I opened my eyes, confused, just in time to see him on his knees in front of me. I blinked dumbly down at him for a second and then—
At the first touch of his tongue on my folds, I cried out. All of the heat that had been building inside me suddenly tightened and spiraled into a dense, glowing coil. He ran his tongue down the seam of my lips, licking jewels of water from my sensitive flesh. I trembled and gasped and heard him chuckle.
His tongue flicked up to my clit and began to caress it. Silver streamers of pleasure radiated out, wrapping around me and rocketing me upward. I grabbed hold of Gabriel’s head, sinking my fingers deep into his thick, dark hair as his tongue circled and feathered. Now I was sure he’d done a deal with the devil: he’d been given a forked tongue, that was the only explanation.