Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Anna spoke.
Just a short little whisper, mouth to ear.
And then she smiled.
She smiled up at me with an even brighter grin as we left, and she was at me as soon as we were onto the street outside, her fingers dancing a tune with my belt as we edged down the pavement.
“What the hell did you say to her?” I asked with a smirk.
She shrugged, but I pushed her all the harder, nipping her bottom lip as she giggled.
“I told her to ditch him,” she whispered. “I told her to ditch that guy next to her and find the man who really makes her orgasm.”
“And that’s advice you’d give yourself all over again, even if you knew what a shit storm was brewing ahead?”
She nodded. “I’d give myself that advice a thousand times over, just for one little moment with your magical tongue on my clit.”
My cock was raging. It was raging and desperate with nowhere to go, and I’d never make it to her place. Not without pinning her against the wall ten times over and fucking her brains out en route.
Instead, I shunted her down a side road, and she squealed and giggled as I bundled her along in my arms.
“Where are we going?!” she laughed at me. “What the hell, Lucas? My place isn’t this way!”
I kept on guiding, and grabbing, and urging us along, and she was still giggling and swaying as she joined me. And holy fuck, she was so much more than I’d let myself remember, even after all this time.
She was intoxicating. Addictive and irresistible and contagious, and horny enough to explode my whole world.
“I mean it!” she insisted. “This isn’t the way to my apartment. I don’t live this way!”
“No,” I said. “But Neptune does. It’s time to make another damn wish, Anna.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Anna
I’d stared up at Neptune over that tumble of water more times than I could ever hope of counting, but never like this. Never in an empty street in the middle of the night with Lucas’s mouth at my neck. I’d never been moaning tipsy on prosecco, exposed and giggling and begging for more as he pulled my dress up. And I’d definitely never been so desperate to take him inside me that I didn’t give a fuck for passers-by, or street cameras, or whispers of gossip eating us up in the aftermath.
He pushed me down onto the lawn in front of the fountain and was straight down on top, and it was such a stark contrast between the cold of the grass and the heat of him that my whole body was alive.
Magical.
It was magical.
Hell, we made the most of it.
We kissed, and we laughed and we enjoyed the breaths of each other. Timeless and free and fun. Hands grasping and grabbing and wanting.
Until wanting turned to needing. And needing turned to knowing.
I stared up at him and he was staring right back, and I guess it was there, in that stare that the laughter truly changed and turned. Our breaths were deeper and harder. That timelessness became an urgency. Because that was us – that urgency.
I felt it all at once.
As much as I wanted to believe we’d make it through this and come out as one, a quiet little voice down deep whispered that I was craving something that could never be. That we were a flicker of candlelight in an open window, doomed but alive, fighting the inevitable.
But still, my soul was sailing high.
I’d lived long enough to know that life has a rhythm – that this much of a high can hit the sky, but then ultimately peaks and tumbles. But maybe this time I was wrong. Maybe, amongst the chaos and the carnage and the disgust of the whole world looking on, just maybe we’d hit the sky and soar.
I could hope.
I could dream.
I could try.
We thrusted and writhed so hard across the grass that we reached the stone ledge of the fountain. I didn’t care whether there were people passing by or watching from windows. I didn’t care about passing cars, or CCTV cameras, or anything but the way he was touching me. The spray of the fountain soaked my hair, and my face and my tits through my dress. He kissed his way down my stomach through the satin and I moaned for him as he hitched my dress up around my waist.
Tonight I’d chosen red for my knickers.
“That’s a good little dirty girl,” he groaned as he saw them, and then he was at me.
My clit was alight, and his tongue was a-flicker, and I was already lost by the time he clamped his mouth through the lace and sucked hard.
“Please…” I managed, and I wasn’t sure whether I was talking to Lucas, or the world around us, or even what I was truly asking for – release in that moment, or from the battlefield where we were taking fire from both sides, exposed in no man’s land without a weapon.