Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“So am I. I’m buying you this dress.”
“No.” I turn my head over my shoulder, finding his lips impossibly close.
“Yes.” His answer is a bare breath that caresses my lips. “If I can buy you lingerie without knowing it, I can buy you an evening dress for the pleasure of seeing you in it.”
“I seem to remember you’ve had the pleasure of seeing me in the underwear, too.”
“I’ll see more than you just wearing it before we’re through.”
“Except, technically, these panties don’t belong to you.”
“You can’t make me harder than I already am.” His hands slip to my hips, pulling me against him as though to prove the point.
“That’s such a weird thing to say.” Instead of the giggle I’d anticipated, I find myself exhaling a breathless sort shaky thing at the way he’s looking at me, a breath that’s the opposite of the riotous feelings simmering under my skin. God, I want him.
“You should leave.” I don’t sound convinced. “She could be back any minute.”
His fingers slip over my hip bones, the firmer press reminding me of how empty my body feels right now. How it could be if I just give in. My mind hops to all the ways Whit can satisfy this hollowness. How many ways he could take me.
Lord, my insides begin to throb like a bruise.
“She could turn up, or the very astute and practical Charlotte could stay on the shop floor for a very long time.”
“What did you do?” I turn my head over my shoulder as though his dark-eyed reflection is too much.
“That would be telling,” he murmurs as his lips feather mine teasingly. “I think we should get you out of this dress.” The huskiness in his voice makes his meaning more than clear. I might be a fool, a fool for him, but I go with it.
“Unfasten me?” I slide my hand under my hair as Whit’s fingers lift to the nape of my neck. One hook undone, he presses his lips to the bared skin. Another hook and he repeats the action, causing tiny shivers of anticipation to shimmer down my spine.
His hands slide over my shoulder, the sounds of cloth sliding before the weighty dress drops like a theater curtain to the floor. “Show’s over,” I find myself whispering.
“No, sweetheart.” In the mirror, his gaze sweeps over my body, the look bold and possessive. “It’s just beginning.”
His body gracefully folds behind me, his fingers making a loop around my left ankle. As he lifts it, I reach forward, my palms pressing to the mirror for balance. He repeats the action, throwing the exquisite dress to the chair behind him.
“Careful,” I protest, but I have nothing else to offer as he stands, his palms sliding along my calves, my knees, up my thighs. I make as though to move when he stills me with a hand to my hip.
“You have a freckle here.” His thumb sweeps over my shoulder blade before slipping down my spine. “And here. So many freckles to trace.”
“Sound like a good game.”
“Yes. “The looks at me feels like a tongue licking my belly from the inside. “Yes, I think it could be.”
My mind seems to register what he’s about to do a split second before my mind does, excitement rippling through me in anticipation as his arms engulf me, pulling me from my hips, pushing my ass out.
“We can’t—not here.” I turn my head over my shoulder, maybe because I don’t want to see the lies leave my lips.
“We can.” His whisper is hot against my ear, his palm like a brand as he presses it flat to my stomach, sparks of pleasure radiating under my skin. “We just have to be quiet.”
My thoughts scatter as his fingers dip into my panties, my body melting against him like soft wax as he cups me.
“Open your eyes, Amelia.”
My insides ignite at his words and how his middle finger slips through my wetness. His thumb finds my clit, and all doubts—thoughts—disappear.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Whit whispers, his body moving with mine as I chase his touch. The mirror fogs with my fevered breaths as his mouth trails my shoulder, the nape of my neck, his free hand sliding higher to mold to my breast. “If only I’d known what fun shopping could be before.”
“You’ve never done this before?”
“Never have I ever taken a woman shopping.” His fingers gather my arousal, painting it across my clit.
“That feels…”
“Never have I ever fucked a girl in a dressing room.” I cry out at the almost reprimanding press of his teeth. My spine arches, my breasts thrusting out in the direction of the mirror as my body yields. “Oh, but I’m about to.”
His finger slips wetly from between my legs, the press of him fading altering. Then the metallic clink of his zipper. My pulse begins to go haywire and I watch in the mirror as, from behind, he slips my panties to the side.