Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“Crew.”
His eyes pop up, returning to my lips just as fast.
“While your rock-solid restraint is impressive, I have no doubt your self-indulgence is far more to speak about.” I grip his wrist, pressing against the hard planes of his chest. “Make a girl’s year and kiss me already.”
His thumb glides up, pressing on my lower lip and tugging it down until it pops free of his touch. He licks his own then. “Your year, huh?”
“Year, decade, who’s counting?”
“Me, Sweets. I’m counting… to three.”
The hand on my neck slides back, his fingers diving into my hair. “One.”
His right hand finds my hip, and he pushes, locking my body to the wall, preventing a possible attempt at escape.
As if I’d dare to move and change his mind.
“Two.”
My eyes snap to his, and his brows dive in the center, the hand in my hair shaking in anticipation as he lowers his head, his gaze locked on mine.
Or maybe I’m the one who’s shaking.
Vibrating.
Freaking pulsating from the inside out.
“Thr—”
I cut him off, slamming my lips to his.
Crew growls, those fingers in my hair tethering, tightening, and tugging in sweet, sweet punishment.
Good fucking glory, his lips, his flavor.
His existence.
The hand on my hip slides up to my ribs, squeezing, and my body slumps against the wall, held up by nothing but his. I grip his sides, and his muscles flex beneath my touch.
The hold he has on my hair doesn’t let up, his other hand rising to join, twisting and turning me at his leisure. He shifts until I’m exactly the way he wants me and I’m so for it.
It’s like I said, I want what he wants, how and when he wants it. Always.
But it can’t hurt to drive him further, to test his control.
To hope it snaps into teeny tiny pieces.
I grip his shirt, the material bunched between my fingertips as I keep him close, thrusting my tongue beyond the seal of his lips, and he meets my stroke with several of his own, tangling our tongues in tantalizing bliss.
He massages my mouth with masterful precision, the stroke of his thumbs against my neck sending a shiver through me, and when he shifts against me, his erection hard and throbbing along my stomach, I rip away with a gasp.
Crew doesn’t allow that. He comes in for more, stealing my breath, and damn, if I’m not dizzy in his arms. Drunk on his kiss. Only when he’s good and ready does he offer a small reprieve, but it doesn’t exactly count because, as fast as he frees my lips, his are feasting on my throat, neck, and collarbone. He tastes every bit of skin he can reach, without moving his body from mine, and then a sharp, swift pain zips through me as his teeth sink into the base of my neck, just to the right of my hairline. Right where he teased me with his tongue last night.
My eyes roll back, my toes curling into the floor at my feet as I dig my nails into his chest.
His rumbles on contact, and this time, there’s no denying it’s he who vibrates before me. A tremor runs through him, and my mouth curves in a small smile.
As if sensing it, his head snaps up to catch a glimpse, and he glares, dips down and nips at it, pulling my lower lip into his mouth and sucking. Hard. A whimper escapes me, and he nods, as if he expected the sound to slip from my mouth.
I clench my thighs, desperate for release, so I slide my hands lower, dipping them beneath my dress and lifting it to my hips as I press my fingers over my clit.
I moan into his mouth and his eyes snap open, and then look down to where my fingers have disappeared into my panties.
Trapping my hand between us with his weight, he glares. “What makes you think you can finish what I started?”
“By all means, master. Roll the credits.”
Crew’s eyes shine with something oh so dirty, and he nips at my chin.
“Make me come, Crew.”
He regards me a long moment, and in one swift motion, swoops me into his arms.
I yelp, locking my legs around his big-ass body, and rope my hands around his neck.
My core muscles tighten in anticipation, waiting for him to take me to his room and then take me in his room, but he turns the other way. Crew drops into one of the armless kitchen chairs, unlocking my legs from behind him and lowering them until my toes are touching the floor.
I’m straddling him, my dress up to my damn waist, the look on his face is downright despicable in the best of ways.
Eyes on me, he reaches between us, and I watch, mesmerized as his hand disappears into his jeans. The muscles in his forearm flex, and I know he’s got his cock in his hand. He squeezes, adjusts, and then slides his hand out, my attention fixated on the long, thick outline, bulging in his boxers, fighting to break through the layer of clothes keeping it in place.