Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
His breaths are even noisier now. Even gustier.
His chest rising and falling so wildly, chaotically. And even though he’s the one who’s clothed, if I focus, I bet I can see all the way through to his heart underneath. Thundering and pounding and battering inside his rib cage.
“And the next time when we met, I told you that I’d given you a name too.” His flinch is followed by a growl, low but a soft one. “So here I am where you can put your hands on me. What are you going to do about it, Bandit?”
Tick tock, the time passes.
He growls again. He glares at me. He clenches his jaw.
It feels like years.
But I guess it’s only a couple of seconds later that he does something about it.
It’s only a couple of seconds later that he puts his hands on me and I’m done for.
I die. And go to heaven.
It has to be heaven.
Because not only does he put his hands on me — both of them on my face — he also puts his mouth on my mouth.
Which means this time, he makes the first move.
Although we can argue that I made the first move when I took my clothes off. And then I kept coming at him. But he was the one who did the actual touching and…
Echo. Gosh, who even cares right now?
Right.
I’m an idiot.
Who cares who made the first move as long as someone did. As long as the result is the same: a kiss.
Our second.
Or maybe the continuation of the first. Because it’s not a gentle kiss by any means. Or a slow one.
He’s not trying to ease me into it. He’s not trying to give me time to adjust, no.
This kiss is a full-fledged feast.
A full-fledged binge of mouths and tongues and teeth.
And watermelon and summer.
Because he still tastes like that. He still tastes like my favorite fruit and feels like my favorite season.
I’d laugh with joy, if I could.
I’d thank God, if I could as well, for making him fit me like my favorite dress.
But I can’t because I’m busy right now.
I’m super busy with eating him up, with sticking my tongue down his throat while I suck on his, with smacking my teeth against him. With bowing my spine for him when he comes at me, his hard chest pressing into my soft one, and tilting my face at the angle he makes me, so he can go deeper.
I’m busy, busy, busy exploring him.
His harsh terrains against my soft planes.
My bare curves against his clothed ones.
My nipples dragging over his cotton shirt, bumping into his buttons. My upper tummy pressing against his belt buckle. My thighs scraping against his dress pants.
And then there are my hands.
Stroking his shoulders, massaging his neck, tugging on his hair.
And scratching.
I’m scratching everything that I can get my hands on.
I don’t know why I always end up doing that, scratching him like I’m a cat in heat. But he seems to love it. He seems to love it so much that he growls into my mouth. Then his own hands, that were focused on keeping me all still while he drinks from my mouth, move.
And do the same.
His rough, warm hands in my hair, around my neck, down my sides.
Coming back up to pinch the side of my tits.
At which point I moan.
I even scream I think, in his mouth, when his fingers make contact with my heavy breasts. And when he growls in response, I shift restlessly against him because I want more.
Because I want him to do that again, growl like an animal and squeeze my tits.
I want him to squeeze my pussy even.
Like, I want him to stick his hand between my thighs and do what he’s doing to my breasts right now, rub and stroke and work it with his rough, fighter fingers.
I want him to work my pussy.
I want him to fuck my pussy too.
And oh my God, have I mentioned in all of this, that he’s so hot?
That his mouth is so warm and heated and a ball of fire. His body is too and I’m sweating and shivering and going all flushed and breathless.
I’m going all crazy.
My thoughts are all broken up and I’m thinking things in half-sentences and completely out of order to make any sense out of them.
Plus I’m so wet.
Down there I mean.
I’m all sticky and creamy and feverish.
And wet.
Did I mention wet? And…
Suddenly, I’m not thinking anything as air rushes into my lungs as an unwelcome intruder. Because he’s broken the kiss. He’s also picked me up in his arms and I’m so dazed that I don’t even remember my feet leaving the ground and my thighs coming up to wrap themselves around his slim hips.
“What…” I pant into his mouth.
He pants too, his eyes dark and burning. “I warned you.”