Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Will you talk to me?” he asks, his voice low.
I feel the heat wash over me, my skin prickling, my throat tightening. I have no idea what he’s getting at, and I have no idea what to say.
And he’s still staring at me, his eyes raking over my body, drinking me in.
“You have no idea what it’s like,” he continues, his voice hushed to a whisper. “To never be able to just be yourself around anyone.”
And before I can even process the words and what to say back—because I do understand what he’s saying, very much—his hands are on me.
They slide up my arms and around my back, his hands traveling up and down my spine. He pulls me against him, his mouth crushing mine, his kiss urgent and passionate, our lips and tongues meshing together, making my head spin.
Oh my god.
I moan in his mouth, and I’m vaguely aware of the fact that he’s kissing me outside in the middle of the night and that anyone could happen upon us, that we could get caught. But those concerns seem to be far away, like they’re in another universe. The only thing that matters right now is that he’s kissing me so deeply I feel it in the marrow of my bones.
His hands are on the small of my back, pulling me against him, against the hard length of his cock, which is rigid against his fly. I rock my hips against him, eliciting a groan from him as his lips travel down my neck.
“I’ve been waiting so long to do this with you,” he grinds out as his lips cover mine again, as his hands move to my breasts, cupping them through my nightgown, my robe falling open.
All I can do is gasp.
Then reality hits me.
No! Not here, not where they can see you.
I pull away, breathing so hard that it hurts, and press my hands against his shirt.
“We can’t do this here,” I say before taking another step backward and doing up my robe. Funny, I had meant to say that we can’t do this at all, and yet…
He stares at me, nodding slowly. His mouth is wet, his lids are heavy, and the scent of testosterone, pheromones, and lust permeates the night air.
Wordlessly he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house. Once inside he lets go and slips silently down the hallway with me right behind him. I have exactly ten seconds to decide what to do next, because he’s already opening the door to his room and giving me a look that makes my toes curl in anticipation. I could easily go up the stairs and to my room, try to sleep, forget this whole kiss ever happened. But I can’t do that now, not when my body has taken the reins, pushing all logic to the side. I know what I want—it’s what I’ve always wanted, and I’m going to get it.
I step inside his room. It’s dark and he doesn’t turn on the lights, but it looks similar to mine. Same bed, dresser, desk, closet, but his place is much tidier than mine. While I’m taking it in, his eyes are taking me in.
We’re silent. There’s no use for small talk now. We’re both committed. Instead he just stares at me, his eyes moving over my body so hungrily that I feel like I’m on fire.
I kick off my slippers. My fingers tremble as I undo the tie to my robe, and then I let it fall off my shoulders, pooling onto the floor around my feet, leaving me standing before him in just my white silk nightgown. His eyes move down my body, swallowing the sight of me, the muscles in his jaw working. I take another step toward him, closing the space between us, and his hands come up, cupping my face, his fingers pressing into my cheeks. He leans in, his mouth searching mine, his kiss rough, desperate, matching the feeling I have inside me, like all these weeks of pretending I felt nothing for him are finally roaring out of me.
I put my hands on his chest, my body pressed up against his, and he makes a noise in his throat.
“I want you, love,” he says against my mouth, trailing kisses down my chin, over my throat, his hands tugging at the straps of my nightgown. I push my fingers into his hair, down his back, tugging him against me hard, kissing him like I’m trying to crawl inside him, to see what it’s like to feel his heart beating, his blood rushing through his veins. He pulls my nightgown off in one motion, pulling it over my head and tossing it onto the floor. I’m in just my bra and underwear now, cursing myself for wearing beige granny panties, but as I stand in front of him, his eyes hungry and gleaming in the dark, I don’t think he cares.