Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
I nearly fall apart forever.
“Grant,” I pant, rolling my hips, shuddering and almost flinching when my panties press into delicate flesh as he rubs against me.
Until now, I never knew the phrase ‘dripping wet’ could be a real thing.
“Grant.”
An agonized groan spills out of him as he tears his mouth from mine and drops his brow to my shoulder.
I twine my arms around his neck.
That’s when I realize it’s not just me.
He’s shaking, too.
His entire body feels so tense he’s nearly trembling, his hands gripping me so hard.
“You’re about to fuckin’ break me, Ophelia. You know that?” he rasps against my shoulder, his voice thick and feral and electrifying.
“Grant,” I whisper again, running my legs along his.
His eyes pinch shut and he exhales a breath like pure dragon smoke.
“Don’t say my name like that again. You’ll murder me.”
Somehow, that delights me.
I’ve always had a bratty streak with this man.
After the briefest hesitation, I turn my head, brushing my lips against his ear.
“Grant,” I purr.
It’s like flipping a switch.
His entire beastly body goes rock-hard.
His cock pulses against me so violently I feel it jerking, straining against his jeans like it has a mind of its own.
Growling, he braces his hands against the bed and pushes back, gazing down with heat and shadows in his eyes like a leaping campfire.
Right before he very deliberately begins stripping my clothes off.
I’ve never had anything like this.
You can barely call it foreplay.
But it’s the silent intensity in Grant’s unblinking, burning stare that makes me a mess.
The slow, calculated movements as he teases the little ribbon tying my cardigan shut.
The manic way he touches me with every movement, his knuckles grazing my breasts as he tugs the cardigan open.
It’s so sexy, yet never quite satisfies, leaving me aching for more, my nipples throbbing and peaking, dying for his hands and mouth.
It’s beyond hypnotic.
“Damn, woman. Goddamn, you are fucked.”
No kidding.
I just wish he’d make it happen faster.
He has me in thrall, helpless to even move, trapped in his carnivorous eyes as he lifts me up with one broad hand.
He handles me effortlessly, peeling the cardigan away and pulling my thin camisole over my head.
I can’t even whimper as he lays me back down and slowly runs his fingers through my hair, fanning it out in a halo.
This vibe, it’s almost frightening.
It’s so raw, so real, so alive with feeling I have to curl my toes so I don’t black out.
Big bad wolf, indeed.
I never imagined I’d be the delicacy he wants to swallow whole, but here I am, willing prey and all.
There’s definitely a slow, wolfish smile on his lips as he presses his fingers to the apex of my ribs, slowly dragging them up, engraving the roughness of his skin in my flesh.
As his middle finger hooks under the clasp in the center of my bra, I inhale sharply.
The lace cups drag against my sensitive nipples, pulling a whimper from the back of my throat.
“Gra—”
“Hush,” he demands.
There’s pure command in the soft, gritty sound that liquefies my bones.
And then makes my heart skip, my stomach flip, as a deliberate flick of his thumb releases the clasp, leaving me naked and already wrecked.
I almost want to hide from his eyes.
Almost.
Except I’ve wanted this man to want me since before I was old enough to have the dirty thoughts rampaging through my head.
It’s almost unbearable to have him look at me like he’s always wanted me just as much.
It hurts when I think of the last ten years, the two of us apart and still burning for each other.
Always in denial when I could have had this if I hadn’t run, if he hadn’t put a shark-infested moat between his heart and the entire world.
But I’m too caught up in the moment to dwell on the past.
I start to lay a hand across my chest—then Grant catches my wrist.
I flush as he pushes my arm down on the bed, pinning me lightly by the wrist. He holds me captive as he pushes one bra cup aside and then molds his hand over the curve of my breast, fully enveloping it in the heat of his large, masculine hand.
I’m so sensitive it almost hurts as his fingers sink into my flesh, making me feel my own softness in his strength.
I bite down on a husky noise spilling out of me, swinging my hips, gasping when I clench my thighs and grind him deeper into me.
Oh God, deeper.
He’s made me such a mess, the lightest touch tearing me apart.
This feeling of yearning emptiness inside that just wants him to touch me and fill me and bring our bodies together until we can’t tell ourselves apart.
But Grant seems intent on this slow, sweet torture.
Even as I twist under him, he burns me with little heat-shocks as his calloused thumb traces slow circles over the peak of my nipple, toying with it, sending waves of pleasure cascading through me.