Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
But the kiss lingers. It’s slow, and deep, and when I’m done, he leans his head against mine and looks into my eyes.
“Come home with me.” His voice is a soft, velvet whisper. It’s not a request. It’s a demand, one I’m compelled to obey, because I know I won’t tell him the truth about the baby.
Because there’s something else I really want. Something else I’m terrified to act on.
He throws cash onto the bar and takes my hand. I let him lead me outside, excitement building down every inch of my body, the anticipation of what he’s about to do to me like a lightning rod for all my emotions. His place is a couple blocks away and we decide to walk, my hand lingering in his, every fiber and every hair electrified. This is dangerous, this time between the kiss and what’ll happen in his apartment, and what’s hanging between us is precarious. We could lose it or let it break.
I shouldn’t do this. Max is waiting at home—I have to text him and tell him I’ll be out later than planned—and god, this is so complicated. If I were smart, I’d make an excuse and run.
Instead, in the shadows of an empty high-end shoe store, he kisses me again. He holds it there, his tongue on mine and his hand on the back of my neck, and I’m sure I won’t turn away.
I want this.
“Just for tonight,” he says as we stumble into his apartment. “Just tonight.”
“Just tonight,” I echo. I let him push me against the door and kiss my neck. His hands roam my skin as he pulls up the hem of my dress. I moan into his mouth as his fingers dig into my tender thighs and get closer, closer. He bites my lip and pulls my hair, and finally he strokes along my pussy slowly, so fucking gently, and it sends jolts of desire into my spine.
“Sometimes I think fucking you that night was a dream,” he whispers as he unzips me. I let my dress fall away with a shiver and his eyes roam down my skin. “It was too fast and too dark. I wanted to savor you, and now I get the chance.”
“What are you going to do to me?” My heart’s racing and I want to hear him say the words. I know already—I can see it in his eyes and taste it in his kiss—but there’s something about the melody of his voice that makes me drip with excitement.
“Every filthy thing I’ve dreamed of between that wedding and today.”
“You’re not supposed to have those thoughts. We made a deal.” Even though I have those thoughts too, so many of them.
He smirks and unhooks my bra as he kisses my collarbone. “I’m not supposed to act on them, Webb. I can think whatever I fucking want.” My bra falls away and he releases this utterly annihilating groan of delight and excitement. The idea that my body can make him react that way is still incredible, beyond novel, and I gasp as he takes my wrists and pins them above my head.
He kisses me harder and faster and I melt into that mouth. Too many thoughts swirl in the back of my mind, all my worries and fears, and slowly they vanish as his mouth moves down to my neck, down to my breasts. His tongue rolls around my nipples and bites them and sucks hard, and I moan, chin tilted up toward the ceiling, as he keeps me pinned, but drops to his knees.
He releases my wrists and spreads my legs. I stare down at him as he marvels at my body, kissing my stomach, my belly button, my hip bones, before moving down to my inner thigh. He’s so powerful, like a jungle cat curled into himself, and my skin shivers with anticipation. “I want to enjoy this,” he says quietly as he slips my panties aside. “If that first time was about hot, impulsive passion, I want tonight to be about a cold, simmering desire. I want you feeling this for days. I want you thinking of it for weeks. I want this night to be a sweet memory you call on whenever you’re alone.”
“Is that what you really want? You want to leave your mark on me?”
He shakes his head and licks me, top to bottom. I gasp in pleasure as his tongue lingers on my clit. He teases me with his fingers, staring into my eyes as I grip his hair.
“I don’t just want to fuck you, Webb. I want to devour you. Do you know the difference?”
“Yes,” I whisper, but the truth is no, I don’t know the difference, but I want to find out.
“Every delicious inch of you,” he murmurs as he licks me again, softly and teasing. “Every incredible inch of you. I want to know what you sound like when you come so hard you’re nearly blinded. I want to see your back arch, your skin sweat. I want you to be filthy for me, Webb. I want my cock in your throat, your spit on my shaft, my cum on your tongue. I want to hear my name slip past your lips like you’re praying. I want it all and so much more.”