Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I felt it.
Shivering over my skin.
Vibrating into my bones.
And not only because as he made the sound, he was moving closer, close enough that our chests brushed, that his head ducked and his nose grazed my neck.
“Only about the job, huh?” he asked, voice lower than usual.
“Yes,” I said, swallowing hard, feeling shaky from the effort it took to stand still and stiff, not to sway into him, to wrap my arms around him, to demand he put an end to this torment.
“Gotta appreciate professionalism,” he murmured, this time his lips teasing over my neck as he spoke. “Almost as good a quality to have as how sensitive you are.”
“I’m not sensitive,” I bristled.
I mean, prickly? Yes. Absolutely.
But sensitive? No.
“Didn’t mean like that, mama,” he said, his hand lifting, skimming up over my ribs. “Like that,” he clarified as an involuntary shiver coursed through me at the barely-there touch.
When I didn’t object—because everything in me wanted to lean in, to beg for more—his hand kept moving up, shifting over to tease across my breast, his thumb teasing over my hardened nipple through the material, making a little mewling sound escape me.
His hand kept moving, stopping at the center of my chest, moving down at a glacial pace. It wasn’t until I felt cool air tease over my chest that I grasped what he was doing.
Unfastening the buttons down the center of my dress.
His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my belly as he kept moving downward.
My whole body shuddered as his fingers got to the button over the apex of my sex, his fingertips touching the barely-there material of my black panties.
I could feel his lips smile against my neck as he let one of his fingers slip ever so slightly inside the waistband of my panties, tracing across my skin for a second, before moving away.
The disappointment was enough almost to make me grab his hand, to press it where I needed him most.
But he was busy back at work with the remaining few buttons.
Finished, his fingertips slipped to the side, caressing up the outside of my thighs.
Then in.
A shiver moved through me as he teased the skin of my inner thighs.
Brushing.
Squeezing.
Scraping with his fingernails.
I’d never been so overwhelmed with need without someone actually touching me where I needed it most.
My breathing was rough and ragged as my head fell back, my eyes closing, getting lost in the sensations.
Andres took the movement as an invitation, his lips moving across my neck, his stubble igniting already heated skin.
And just as his teeth nipped, his hand slipped up and between my thighs, pressing down on the material there.
A low growling sound moved through him.
“Already wet for me,” he murmured against my skin as his fingers started to stroke me through the material.
Then his hand moved up, slipping inside my panties, running up my slick cleft, finding my clit, and working it with expert fingers, driving me up.
A moan escaped me just as there was raucous laughter coming from the kitchen just a few yards away, the sound making me stiffen.
“Fuck ‘em,” he murmured as his fingers suddenly thrust inside of me.
And, yeah, at that moment, I had to agree with him.
Fuck ‘em.
Because if I hadn’t stopped this already, I wasn’t going to do so.
So I might as well sink into it, enjoy the hell out of it.
Before the inevitable regret came rushing in.
Andres’s fingers started to stroke inside of me as his thumb found and worked my clit, and his lips and tongue brushed my neck.
It wasn’t long before my soft sighs and whimpers started to grow stronger, louder, until it was actual moans escaping me.
“There you go,” he said as my walls tightened, as my breath hitched, then the orgasm slammed through me.
A choked moan escaped me, muffled by the sounds of the men outside the door.
“Give me another,” he demanded as his hand suddenly yanked my panties down my legs that were still shaking a bit from the orgasm.
Then he was moving away, dropping down at my feet.
I barely had time to register what he was doing before my leg was over his shoulder, and his face was buried between my thighs.
His tongue traced up my cleft, making both my arms shoot out, one grabbing the back of his neck, the other slapping into the wall for support as the pleasure built instantaneously.
Shameless in my desire, my hips rocked against him as his tongue worked my clit.
My fingers dug into the back of his head as his fingers moved between us again, slipping inside of me, thrusting lazily for a moment, before turning and stroking against my top wall in that perfect little come hither motion that was driving me to that edge faster than seemed possible.
The pleasure built at the base of my spine until his tongue flicked just right and his fingers stroked at the exact same moment, sending the orgasm shooting through my body, blacking out my vision for a moment, making my body shake, and dragged out an almost pained moan from my lips.