Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
With his rigid jawline so close, I couldn’t detect a single whisker. His ebony hair combed back in modest waves, his face aglow from washing. Dear lord, he had gorgeous skin, the color of moonlight glinting off pristine sand.
At age thirty-four, he’d been blessed with the beauty of man in his early twenties and the confident carriage of a king at the acme of his reign. I yearned to strip him of his shields, his armor, and his clothes and to do to him what he did to me. I wanted to make him ache.
“Turn around.” His voice, winded and rough, affirmed that I wasn’t the only one affected.
I gave him my back.
He gathered my hair with unhesitant hands, as though he knew how to handle a thick, heavy mane such as mine. Draping the mass over my shoulder, he tackled the laces on my bodice.
Sharp, distinct tugs wrung air from my lungs. Yank. Exhale. Yank. Wheeze. Like a slow burst of gunfire, he mercilessly set the pace of my gasps.
When he finished, my relief was short-lived. He didn’t step away, didn’t move his hands from the gown. Instead, he went exploring.
Fingers drifted around my hips, finding and caressing my curves through the folds of fabric. His touch echoed everywhere at once, a harmony of sensation rippling beneath my skin and thrumming through my veins.
I wiggled against him, awash in desire. It simmered in me like molten sweet cream, but it didn’t suffice. Was he dangling pleasure within reach only to rip it away and frustrate my expectation in the end?
Tantalizing bastard. If he were one of my crewmates, I would punish him for being such a tease.
“We should eat now,” I said.
“No.” He spoke against my neck, his mouth hot upon my skin, burning me up. “I’m not finished.”
Standing behind me, he slid a hand across my chest. The other meandered over my abdomen and sank into the voluminous skirts between my legs. With a firm grip on my nether regions, he pulled my backside tight against his groin.
I hissed as bruised muscles shuddered and clenched in pain.
“You still feel my punishment.” He trailed his nose along my shoulder. “Shall I retrieve the salve?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
But I wasn’t. Wrapped in his powerful arms, held against the marble slab of his chest, with his finger directly on my clitoris, despite all the pleats in the skirt, I didn’t trust my own judgment.
If he took, I would give. He wanted me, no mistake. I couldn’t feel his hardness through our clothing, but I didn’t need to. I heard his want in the consonance of our panting, felt it in the union of our sizzling energy, and saw it tremble in the fingers that now twisted in my curls.
With his grip in my hair, he spun us both until we stood face to face, eyes locked. Barely a sliver of space separated us.
His mouth lowered. Mine lifted. Straining to meet, our lips parted, floated closer, closer, and paused just before making contact.
Our chests rose in unison. Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. Deeper than a lick, more divine than a kiss, we became breaths. Nothing but trembling, heating, mating breaths.
It was a magical, instinctual attraction. I pulled, and he came with me. He leaned back, and I followed. We were joined by sparks that coalesced into one entity, drawn together like magnets, bound by an invisible force.
The fire that burned inside me, deep in the heart of my innermost being, roared into a conflagration, demanding fuel, seeking him. I wanted his mouth to fan the flames. And his hands. His heavy cock.
With his gaze fixed upon my lips, he held me prisoner, a willing captive to his attention. Now he just needed to erase that last inch. It had to be him.
Then he did. He pulled me tight against his hard body. But instead of raiding my mouth, he seized my neck. Licking. Kissing. Vibrating, bone-penetrating kisses that made my heart and blood hum with satisfaction.
My fingers clutched his waistcoat and shirt, clinging to his strength. It was a miracle that my legs remained beneath me. His potency washed unbearable longing through me, rousing a craving I’d held at bay for four days. And he wasn’t finished.
Tilting my face up, he put his sculpted mouth at my ear. “You are so gratifying to the senses. So clear and absolute.” A kiss at my hairline. “Unrestricted. Unconditional.” His lips brushed across my cheek. “Ripe with temptation. Fit for eating.” He touched his forehead to mine, breathing heavily. “You’re so damn stunning it hurts.”
I closed my eyes, shivering at the mercy of desire. Heat gathered between my legs, pulsing, liquefying. If he could do this to me with only his words, what else could his tongue do?
“Ashley—”
“Silence.”
“Kiss me, then. Kiss me until I can’t speak.”
He went motionless, wooden, all signs of lust rapidly evaporating. His arms fell away, and he retreated a step.