Speak of the Devil – Westcott Family Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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Seconds. Minutes. Hours. I lose track of time when he begins ravaging with his tongue. It’s been too long and feels too good. I buck my hips, taking on his chaos as he consumes me whole.

Fingers replace his tongue, and he fucks me with little foreplay. Other than a few kisses, he left me wanton for more. I push against his hand, getting closer to the edge with every thrust. But it’s when his tongue flattens against my clit, claiming me as his through whispers and licks, that I fall so fast I fumble into ecstasy.

The stars shine before I land and bounce back to reality. I should be embarrassed for how little that took—a look, a kiss, so much connecting us that I lost myself in him.

He flips the covers up, and our eyes find each other in the dark. I find myself, the girl who used to dream, is now the woman who went after what she wanted.

I feel too good to worry about how this looks to the outside world. Instead, in this bed, what Shane thinks is all that matters to me.

Looking at me as he climbs up my body, his blue eyes shine like the devil escaped Alcatraz. He holds himself above me, his penis hard and prominent against my leg, then dips down to kiss me again. “You taste fucking amazing, babe.”

My soul was pilfered for safekeeping with his, and a bag of bones is all that’s left of me. Sliding my hands on either side of his head, I encourage him to let me bear the weight and to kiss him of my own accord as if we have all the time in the world.

Left breathless once more, I fall back, my head hitting the soft pillow and my body feeling like it’s returning to life.

I reach down, wanting him to feel as good as I do, but my hand is caught and brought to his mouth. He kisses my fingers and my palm. “When I come, it will be inside you.” The words are firm, but his tone dances between a command and the deep tone that makes me weak in the knees.

He kisses me once more and then turns us, me spinning around with swiftness. He curls me in his arms from behind, my back to the strong beat of his heart pumping in his chest. Every breath of his brushes across my skin, leaving goose bumps in the wake.

I want to talk to him and ask a million questions about what happens next, but I listen to his breathing even as sleep sets in. There’s no rush for tomorrow when there’s so much to enjoy about the here and now. We have time for the heavier conversations in daylight.

I almost fall asleep as well, but I force myself to stay awake a little longer—not only to check on him to make sure he’s safe with the concussion but because I want to savor everything about this night with him.

While he’s still my husband.

14

Cate

I wake before the alarm goes off and rip myself away from the only place I want to be—Shane’s arms.

After contorting my body to slip out of bed without waking him, I’m confident that counts for my morning yoga routine. That, or an audition for Cirque de Soleil. As the shower spray rains down on my head, I close my eyes, remembering how he kissed my mouth and down my body. There’s a sense of mourning as the water cleanses his touch from my skin. But that leaves me wondering what happens now.

Do we pretend nothing happened between us?

Go about our lives and never speak to each other again?

Date?

Dating seems like the obvious answer, but how do I even broach the topic? I shut the shower off and grab a towel. “Hey, Shane, so remember how you did that thing with your tongue last night? I’d like more of that along with spending all my waking minutes with you. Too much?”

“No. I have time now.”

“Aah!” I jump, startled to see Shane filling the doorway. Twisting the towel tighter around me, I try to keep my heart from escaping my body. “Don’t do that!” I say, still panicked. “You scared the hell out of me, Faris.”

He’s busy laughing, but at least he comes over to wrap me in his arms. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d scare you.”

I knock my fist against his chest, though I’m comforted by his warm, hard body. “I’ll never be able to step out of the shower without worrying someone will be there again.”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak in. I just happen to have perfect timing, but I am a drummer, so that’s a given,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “But I am sorry, babe.”

Babe. I hated it the first time he said it to me, and now I gobble it up every time like it’s little pieces of chocolate left by the Easter bunny. “I’ll live. This time.”



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