Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“And not a wager or negotiation between us.”
“No.” He pulls back, his expression one I’ve never seen before. “No, nothing between us.” And his hand reaches for mine, wrapping around his cock.
Hot, it pulses against my palm, and the noise he makes as I close my fingers around it, part agony, part ecstasy, and so male.
“Lavender, tell me now if I need a condom.”
“You tell me,” I say, not able to look at his face. “Do I need one?”
“I’d never—”
I press my fingers over his lips. I trust him. As weird as that sounds, given our history, I do.
“Thank you. Fuck, princess.” His hand curls around mine as he sort of growls. “Other hand.”
I have questions but slot them away for later as I bring my knees under me, swapping to my left hand. I give him a couple of experimental strokes, and it’s awkward like this, but it’s a small price to pay for the visual. The way his head tips back, his eyes turning languid. The choppiness of his breath and the deep ripple of his swallow I want to press my teeth over. “So good, princess. So fucking good.”
The muscles in his thighs tauten. Abdominals, too. Buoyed by his praise and this sensory overload, I lean forward when he catches me by the shoulder.
“Get on your knees.” His voice all gravel and husk, but there’s a little desperation under all that command.
I want him so badly, but like this? And for our first time? But then he’s kissing me as I touch him firmer, faster, as he flexes up into my hold.
“Please, for me.” His fingers fold over mine and squeeze.
I roll over and find coming onto my knees feels entirely natural, though I still when I find his hands on my hips as he positions himself behind me. I want this so badly and tremble as his hand caresses the length of my spine.
“You look so fucking hot right now.”
I drop my head between my shoulder blades, not sure how that works when the satin glide of him through my slick flesh makes us both curse.
“Hurry, please.” I turn my head, desperate. The shape of him behind me, the look on his face. It’s like looking at the sun.
His skin against mine feels almost shocking as he positions himself, the press of his smooth crown eliciting a needy throb.
His breath brushes my skin, and his thumb hooks around my little finger as I glance down. My heart takes wing, fluttering against my ribs.
“I want this to last.” Sincerity. A slight adjustment, and I hold my breath as he pushes inside in one beautiful, endless moment, whispering one single word. “Forever.”
I can’t process his meaning, not right now, not as I feel him over me. Invading me. Overtaking me.
“Sweetheart.” His hips flex, doing something wonderful and torturous that makes my brain melt and something sinful and sweet slide through my insides. Before he pulls back, and with one long drive, he fills me to his hilt. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
“Because you’re so big.”
He gives a pained-sounding chuckle that makes me glance back at him.
“Urgh.” No one says stuff like that in real life. Do they? “Yuck it up. I bet that never gets old.”
“Hush,” he whispers, all sinful smile and sexy, hooded eyes.
The penises I’ve known are few. More like singular. Definitely singular. But it never felt like this. Like one wrong move, and I might turn into a shish-ka-Lavender.
And I love it, love the sensation of being full. Being fucked like this as I surrender myself to his slow, deep thrusts and eyeball-rolling jabs. I give in to his hand, twirling my ponytail as he wraps it in his fist. There is a tight pull on my scalp, and I hear the sound of his harsh breaths and hungered words.
“Goddamn, Lavender. I want to fuck you everywhere—be inside you everywhere and all at once.”
I make a noise—just a breath, really. I don’t think he’s talking about room locations.
“Open up for me.” His hand slips to the small of my back. “Drop your back and move with me.”
My body seems to know what he’s asking and holy hell. The sound I make is pure animal. My fingers twist in the bedding—I never knew it could be like this. I used to think no one really made these kinds of noises, not unless there was a cameraman about.
“You’re mine, Lavender.” He falls forward, his teeth pressing my shoulder. Two fingers turn my face to meet his. Our kiss is slow, wet, and a little desperate as Raif swallows the tiny pleading sounds of my delightful misery. “Mine to love and fuck.”
My insides pulse in time to my thoughts. More. Lie to me. More. Love me.
I screw my eyes tight. I know it’s not real. I know I’m supposed to be on my guard, but I’ve never met anyone like him. I just want to do this forever. Annoying him. Loving him?