Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“And is it?” I ask. “All yours?”
“There’s no question.” His grin is wicked as he goes back to my chest, devouring each breast hungrily, his one finger turning into two. “My father always warned me that women make you vulnerable.” He works his way down to my stomach and brushes his nose across my skin, studying the expanse of flesh. I prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him, watching him drift lower and lower. My blood whooshes with anticipation.
I breathe his name, spreading my thighs wider for him. He replaces his fingers with his mouth and licks me softly, kissing me gently between each sweep of his tongue. Good God. I drop to my back and sink my hands into my hair, searching for control.
“That good, baby?”
My internal muscles begin to contract, my shakes rapidly taking over. My heart booms faster, my temperature swiftly rises. His tongue is magical. And when he slips two fingers inside me again, doubling the sensations and pleasure, it’s my undoing, my legs hardening as I come all over his face in sharp, rolling waves. I sink deeper into the bedsheets, electric shocks stabbing at the swollen cluster of nerves in my clit. My cheeks puff out, my body dazed from the fast onslaught of pleasure. I’m sated and hot as he kisses me gently, pulling his fingers free, trailing his mouth across my skin as he crawls back up my body. “Morning,” he whispers, shifting his hips and driving straight into me. His move has my fading orgasm rebuilding.
“Morning,” I sigh, hugging him, letting him take me to a place far better than this world. His drives are deep and exact, his grinds steady and firm. I’ve lost count of the amount of orgasms we’ve shared throughout the night, and more are on the way. He’s right. I won’t be able to walk properly, but it’s okay. Because Danny will carry me wherever I need to go. Which isn’t far from him. I smile to myself and stick my lips to his shoulder, stroking across his upper back as he sinks into me consistently and precisely, stripping back my breathing to shallow pants. He’s a surprisingly masterful lover. Gentle, selfless, and utterly consuming. I’m totally taken by him, everything about him. His ethics are questionable. He’s probably killed as many people as women he’s fucked. He’s cruel, callous, and he slapped me within an hour of meeting him. It’s backward for me to feel anything other than hatred for him. But I don’t hate him. I admire him—admire the state of mind he has me in. I admire him for being as fucked up as me. I couldn’t tell you if the ache in my heart is love. I couldn’t tell you whether the sting in my eyes when I think about his absence is love. I couldn’t tell you if the butterflies in my tummy each time I look at him is love.
But I fear it is. Because it’s the same ache I feel whenever I’m blessed with a picture of my son.
I close my eyes and breathe his sweaty skin into me, turning my face into his neck, squeezing him that little bit tighter. If I want to be his, then I am. But there’s so much he doesn’t know about me. “Danny,” I whisper, my voice broken by the overwhelming sensations invading every piece of me, of the feel of him moving inside me. Just tell him. Spit it out. The longer I stall, the worse it’ll become.
His head lifts so he can get me in his sights, and I fear for a moment that he’ll see all of my sins in my eyes. He continues to thrust gently and slowly. “What is it?” He dips and kisses me, holding his mouth on mine as he keeps up his dizzyingly expert pattern of drives and grinds.
I lose my nerve, fearful of the reprisals. I’m not scared that he might hurt me. Not physically, anyway. I’m scared he’ll turn his back on me, and this tranquility will be stolen from me. I swallow and shake my head, distracting him from pressing me by cupping the back of his head and plunging my tongue into his mouth, sweeping through hungrily. Sparks start to fly, my world starts to spin, and when Danny grunts under his breath, I naturally start to thrust up into his plunges. My fingers claw. He starts to shake. “Shit, Rose.” His hips jerk, and on a drawn-out mumble of nonsense, he sinks his face into my neck and bites down gently, pushing me higher and higher with each drive into me. Stars start to hamper my vision, my pulse in my ears distorting our moans of ecstasy. Our bodies become frenzied in the search for their releases, our voices louder.