Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
It’s young lust and revelry at its finest.
Hormones are thick in the air, but it’s one man’s scent that’s completely intoxicating.
“Fuck.” His hands pinch my ass tighter, so hard I grind against the insane ridge in his trousers. “You call me Christopher again, and I will fuck you right here, Delia. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”
“Yeah? Are you sure it’s just the guests we should worry about?” I say carefully, wondering if I should even hint at Evie.
It’s a legit worry after what happened over dinner the other night. I tried to tell him.
And since Dad left for the airport, I haven’t seen my stepmother all day.
It’s almost too quiet if she’s still upstairs somewhere, looking down on the party below. I can imagine the bitter scowl on her face, the hate in her eyes watching us having a good time.
Chris snorts, silencing me with a sultry kiss.
“Forget her, babe. She’s probably too whacked out on self-pity to know what a fucking window is, much less find us. Your old man’s a goddamn saint for putting up with her for so long.”
His lips curl back and he sighs, no doubt grieving having to call her mother for the millionth time.
“Sorry I brought it up. Let’s just keep having fun, okay?”
He nods and starts spinning me around again, pulling me closer with every turn, wheeling me over and brushing his cock against me every time I lean in.
Holy hell, he feels divine.
Nothing should come between us tonight.
He’s staked his claim publicly, and I’m ready to face down hell to keep it.
Whatever penalty it takes to stay in his mile-wide embrace until those stars smeared overhead burn out.
There’s no more time for heady thoughts, though.
Not when he makes me bend over and grabs my hips.
I flush, embarrassed because we’re dressed way too nicely to be dancing dirty. But I feel his hand graze up my thigh.
His thrusts grind my clit through our clothes, amping up the firestorm in my blood.
Holy unholies.
I need him tonight like I need a cool drink of water to soothe my scorched throat.
My hips roll back against his and I try not to burst out laughing.
...I’m honest-to-God twerking for a minute, and I wonder what he’s turning me into.
But my eyes don’t want to focus through the sticky summer night, the lust, the pleasure he drums through every nerve.
When I look up, shock rips through me.
Several drunken, grinning faces from the pool are practically leering at us, frat boys and sorority girls whispering to each other, pointing when they don’t think we’re looking.
Big yikes.
I bolt up, but Chris catches me, taking my hands in his.
He turns me around so I’m facing away from the crowd before we’re back in the same position, bent over and dangerously positioned against his unstoppable cock.
“We’re not leaving this dance floor till you come for me, Delia. Fuck yes, I mean right here,” he orders. “Lose it. Give it up for me like you did that first night.”
He leans in, brushing his sandpaper stubble across my cheek, his breath so ragged and molten in my ear I think I’m going to combust on the spot.
“Are you crazy?” I’m dead serious, despite crazy coming out as a moan when I feel his friction on my clit, pulling me deeper into this animal heat. “W-we can’t. They’re watching...”
“Let ’em.” He pauses, letting it sink in. “I meant everything I said earlier. Everybody’s gonna see us dance, baby, and I don’t give a single fuck.”
He tosses me up then, spins me in his arms, and my whole world shatters.
One hand grabs my ass, stiffens me against him, and the other darts under my skirt, slowly caressing up my bare skin, flicking my panties aside.
His fingers fill me, giving my clit a rough stroke with his thumb.
Oh, fuck.
“Chris, I...I can’t come like this. I can’t come standing up with all these people just...just staring at us...”
I’m panting now.
“Nobody sees shit,” he growls. “You’ve got your back turned. To them, we’re just dancing. And that’s exactly what we’re doing, babe. Bring it home for me. All your best moves.”
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth.
My throat feels like a desert.
I’m probably dehydrated from the wet mess he’s made me all night, and now I’m creaming on his fingers.
While his hand works rough, he moves me so gently, this vicious contrast that takes me apart.
I still think the clowns behind us can see everything if they really look. But it probably resembles two drunken, overdressed lovers at a wedding, just swaying to the music oozing out the speakers.
All right, you win.
I can’t say it, but it’s all I can think of as his strokes come harder, more urgent.
My knees buckle, ready to send me crashing to the ground, but the badass holds me up.
And just when I think I can’t, he proves I absolutely can.