Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Not nerves.
Although—I had those.
It meant I had to convince him again. One of my hands slipped down his neck and across his chest until I had my palm squeezed between us and flat over his racing heart.
“I want you inside me,” I whispered.
He exhaled loudly, and I didn’t miss how it was tinged with relief. Because he wanted that, too, and it seemed like he wanted it badly. The muscles in his chest were hard as stone as he reached down and steadied himself, found the spot he needed to, and ever-so-slowly began to push inside.
The stretch of his two fingers earlier had been good, but this was a lot more.
I inhaled a sharp breath through my nose, and my hand on his chest instinctively pushed, trying to slow him down. The way he advanced, it didn’t exactly hurt—that was too strong a word to use.
But the sensation caused a deep, uncomfortable ache.
Plus, it went on . . . and on . . .
And just when I reached the limit of what I could take, he sealed his mouth over mine to distract, and took the last crucial inch. I let out a little whimper of displeasure, and he solidified. The only thing that moved was his lips, and they roamed over mine, alternating between short kisses and deeper ones, giving my body time to accommodate.
To adjust to his possession.
Holy shit. There was another person inside me.
I was motionless on the bed, and he was bent over, covering me, both of us struggling to catch our breath.
Slowly, his kiss began to travel. It moved across my cheek so he could whisper the question by my ear, as if not to disturb me.
“You okay?”
My word was quiet. “Yeah.”
I was okay.
It was still uncomfortable, but it wasn’t that bad. I liked how his hips were pressed against me and how my legs were folded around him. We were utterly connected, and I—
“Oh,” I said abruptly.
The sensation of him moving, of his slow withdrawal wasn’t at all what I’d expected. It was still uncomfortable, but not . . . unpleasant. He grasped one of my hips, pinning me to the bed while he continued to pull back, and then he began to ease forward again in a motion that was much too slow and deliberate to be called a thrust.
I arched beneath him, flattening my breasts to his chest. He was so warm and hard everywhere.
“Fuck, Sydney.” His voice was pure smoke. “You feel so good.”
His words caused me to clench inside and out, and—holy shit—he felt it. His eyes hazed with pleasure, and my physical ache diminished as my emotional one grew. There’d been a crease between his eyebrows as he focused on me, but when I sighed with contentment, the crease faded.
My first soft moan gave him enough confidence to truly move.
To push deeper.
The bed creaked beneath us as he established a measured pace, and suddenly his hands couldn’t stay still any longer. They coursed over my body, caressing my breasts, my waist, my legs. I followed his lead and let my hands wander over him too. Shit, it was so nice to be able to touch him unrestrained, exactly how I wanted.
“Do you like it?” he mumbled into my breasts while his body rocked against mine.
The sensation was wild and foreign, but . . . “Yeah. Do you?”
Half of a laugh bubbled out of him like I’d asked something obvious, and he playfully nipped at my breast, as if he needed to tease me for such a silly question. “Your pussy is so goddamn tight, it’s going to make me come way too fast.”
I pulled in a ragged breath through my parted lips.
Steam filled the room, squeezing us together and making our bodies slick with sweat. Our kisses were interrupted by moans, and I loved the way his competed with mine for who could be the loudest.
Everything was sprinting inside me when Preston found a new gear. My blood, my heart, my mind . . . they all rushed along at breakneck speed. The hurried thrust of his hips drove me into the mattress, and although it didn’t feel like it was going to be good enough to bring me to orgasm, it did feel good.
Like, really good.
Each sharp movement from him injected me with pleasure.
Abruptly, he straightened to stand while still lodged inside me, taking away the heat of his body. He shifted to bury one knee up on the bed, and it changed the angle, allowing him to slip deeper.
His heavy eyes blinked, and pleasure twisted his handsome face, exaggerated by the shadows of the candlelight. His gaze drifted down the slope of my body to where we were joined, and he made a sound of satisfaction.
“Fuck, look at that,” he ordered. “Look at how deep I am inside you.”