Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
I couldn’t put words to it, but she did. She summarized exactly what has me clawing out of my skin to be inside her. But even after hearing it from her lips, I need her to make the first move. I need to know she’s fine—that if I lose control, she won’t break.
She stands and walks back toward her bedroom. Leaning against the doorjamb again, eyes intense and stormy and locked with mine, she tugs the first button of her pajama top loose. The second, third, and last buttons follow. The white silk slides down her arms, baring her breasts, full, high, tipped with berry-brown nipples.
I gulp, my chest heaving with the control it takes to remain on this couch. Not to charge and fuck her where she stands. It’s animalistic, and I want to be, if not gentle, at least civilized. But there’s nothing civilized about how I feel when the pajama bottoms glide like water over the curve of her hips and down her legs. Lustrous hair bathes her shoulders in black silk and slips over her breasts, her distended nipples taunting me through the long strands. She turns her back to me and slowly bends over to pick up the discarded pajamas, giving me a clear view of the plump lips and slit of her pussy.
My mouth goes dry. I can’t not do this.
I’m on my feet and in the bedroom before she’s even reached the bed. I grab her arm, being careful with her, and turn her to face me. Only her bedside lamp is on, washing us and her bedroom in golden light. The regal bone structure of her face is marred by one swelling cheekbone. Black and blue bruises shackle the slim line of her neck. Rage and helplessness flood me again, as if she’s still hundreds of miles away. I sift strands of her hair through my fingers, brush my thumb over the discolored rise of her cheek, bend to dust kisses in the shallow well at the base of her bruised throat.
“He hurt you,” I say, my voice strangled.
“I’m okay.” She cups my neck and slides her fingers into my hair.
“I’m furious.” I span her waist, tightening my hands on her, feeling the delicate bones through her warm flesh. “He’s probably dead, but I want to hunt him down. I want to kill him for hurting you. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings.”
“I do,” she says, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt and pulling it over my head.
“Are you sure?” My hands tremble with the need to touch every inch of her naked golden-brown skin.
“I’m messed up right now.” She undoes my belt, glances up from the task to meet my eyes straight on. “I won’t pretend that what happened hasn’t scarred me—hasn’t changed me. It has. I don’t even think I know how it’s affected me yet. What I do know is that I love you, and the thing I regretted most when I thought I would die was that I never told you. So let me tell you.” She steps back and sits on the edge of the bed, which is covered in a cream-and-gold-silk comforter. She spreads her legs in blatant invitation. “Let me show you.”
The seduction of her movements, of her eyes, pained and yet passionate in her drawn face, pulls me to her and over the line of restraint. I take my place on my knees between her legs, pressing her open wider. I bend and press my face against the soft heat of her, at first just lightly running my lips over her pussy, then spreading her and taking her clit into my mouth. I groan at the taste, the texture.
“Doc,” she moans, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Yes. Please.”
I eat, reminding myself to go slowly, but I get lost in this delicious universe between her legs, and I’m ravenous. My fingers are inside her. My tongue is firm and darting into her, lapping at her wetness. I rain kisses over the insides of her thighs and bite the firm flesh. She gasps, and I check her face for pain. A startled kind of pleasure warms her expression.
“Do that again,” she demands, her fingers tugging my hair. “Bite me again.”
I bite a trail up her thighs and between her legs until she comes, flopping onto her back, bucking and thrusting and writhing on the bed, her cries filling the room. Her response is as wild as my passion for her.
When her body stills, I undress and crawl onto the bed to lie beside her, watching her pretty face twitch with the aftershocks of her orgasm. I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, biting. He had no right to mark her with violence. I mark her with my love, with my tenderness and care. I follow the circle of her areola with love bites, ringing her breasts with tiny hickeys, all the while fucking her with my fingers and circling, pinching her clit until she comes again.