Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Can I deal with the consequences of that choice?
Or should I just tell him I’ve had a bit too much to drink, my thinking is clouded, and get a cab back to my apartment? But honestly, I’m stone cold sober. It’s been hours since my last sip of wine with dinner, and the one taste of champagne wasn’t nearly as bubbly as my own belly is. But those bubbles are from excitement.
And lust.
I look into his eyes, searching for any doubts, but find none. I search my own heart and find a desire for adventure, a hope for something I will take with me as a special memory.
“I would. What do you have in mind?” I ask coyly, still fidgeting with his tie.
“Alexa, play meditation playlist,” he intones, and music with a pulsing thrum starts. The music is low, intimate, pure bedroom music. But behind it is the distinct pulsing beat that alternates between my left and right ears of so-called binaural tones, and while they might just be pure hype, the warm pink glow that rises inside me isn’t.
“I like this.” I tilt my head, listening closely.
“Autumn,” Simon says, getting my attention. “Do you trust me?”
I don’t know. I mean, I only met him days ago and not under the best circumstances. And there’s the whole fashion competition. But that’s not truly what he’s asking. He wants to make sure that in this moment, I have faith that he has my best interests at heart, that he only wants to give me pleasure. That I do believe. “Yes, I do.”
His pupils get larger, nearly obliterating the warm brown of his irises. He picks up the tie from his lap and tells me, “Hold still.”
It takes me a split second to realize what he’s going to do, but as he covers my eyes with the silk fabric and ties it behind my head, I don’t feel any concern. I feel excited.
My other senses sharpen. I can hear my heart racing in time with the music. I can smell the champagne and Simon’s cologne. I feel the leather of the couch.
Simon leans in. I can’t see him, but I feel his closeness, and then his lips press to mine. I kiss him back, but he keeps the slow pace, reconnecting us physically and giving me time to adjust to the onslaught of sensations.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in tighter, and only then does he deepen the kiss. His hand cups my jaw, guiding me to lift my chin, and he lays a line of kisses toward my ear. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he growls into my ear, and a shiver works its way down my spine.
I nod, and his hands trace up my legs, over my hips and ribs before he finds the zipper at my side. Carefully, he draws it down before running his hands up, sliding my dress off my shoulders and easing it down my body.
He brushes a gentle stroke over the globe of each breast, tracing the line where skin and lace meet, and whispers, “Beautiful.” Each touch is electric, leaving a line of tingles in the wake of his fingertips. By the time his hands reach my waist again, I’m almost shaking with desire.
“Please,” I whisper, although I’m not sure what I’m asking for. Just . . . more. “Please.”
Simon says nothing, or if he does, I can’t hear it over the soft music and its teasing, arousing pulse. Instead, he lifts my hips and slides my dress off, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He even slips my heels off and chuckles when I wiggle my toes.
He pushes on my shoulder, guiding me to lie back on the couch, placing a pillow beneath my head and arranging me carefully for comfort before sitting between my spread legs. My skin goes tight with goosebumps and my muscles twitch in anticipation of what’s to come. I feel vulnerable and hypersensitive and desperate for more.
I want him to hurry, get me to the point of no return quickly, but it seems like that’s not Simon’s style at all. He said he wanted to worship me, and already, I feel more revered than I ever have.
Suddenly . . . I feel it. The soft, almost feathery light touch of his lips on my upper stomach. I’ve never felt a more arousing touch in my entire life, and my head lolls. I’m not immune to insecurity, and typically, a man paying special attention to the curves of my stomach would not be high on my list of wants, but blinded, all those concerns slip away in the face of pure pleasure.
“Oh,” I moan, shuddering. I feel more than hear him hum in answer as he places soft kisses up to the skin between my breasts. He avoids the cups and my more sensitive flesh, then returns down to my belly button, dipping his tongue in and making me gasp. He continues, kissing lower to the waistband of my panties before pulling back.