Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
When we started to kiss, I seemed too aware of everything. How I positioned my hands. How I moved my lips. Slowly, he coaxes me into just feeling the passion, letting go of all the insecurities swirling in my head. Soon it’s only him. His touch. His kiss. His pleasure melding with mine.
He works my shirt up over my stomach, and his mouth falls there. He kisses my navel and travels up, pushing my shirt higher until cool air caresses my chest. Warmth replaces it as his hands cup my breasts, palming the taut flesh as he teases me. He lowers his mouth there, sweeping his tongue over each tip, making my back arch off the bed.
I’m adrift in pleasure when he suddenly pushes up and turns on the lamp. I blink, adjusting to the shallow light.
Then I see him there, his dark hair mussed up from my hands, his gaze wicked, his lips dark red.
He doesn’t ask; he simply tugs my shirt off the rest of the way, up and over my head. Then it falls to the floor, an afterthought now.
He admires me without a word as I lie on the bed in nothing more than my panties. My cheeks are warm, and despite my efforts to remain still, I fidget under his intense gaze.
How did we get here?
How is he so calm?
Words don’t tumble out of him the way I want them to. Beautiful, irresistible, sexy beyond belief—these are all good. I would accept any of them. Cole just seems . . . entranced. And while he might not say any of those words aloud, I feel them in his soft caress, the way his hands squeeze my waist, the way he wets his bottom lip and then blinks as if forcing himself back to the task at hand: giving me sweet, sweet pleasure.
“Do you think we’ll continue?” I tease.
“Definitely.”
“Then shouldn’t you take your shirt off too?”
He does it so fast it’s like he’s been practicing for this moment all year. Every day, he times himself. Faster, Cole, faster. Damn it. The Rocky soundtrack plays in the background.
Now I’m the one who’s gone mute as he sits shirtless above me. Honestly, Cole. How dare you cover up every day in those suits? Leaving this to the imagination? So cruel . . .
Since he took his sweet time exploring me, I do the same. I walk my fingers up his chest, over every subtle ridge and valley, taking detailed notes in my mind. Later, I’ll be able to draw his body to scale, including elevations, like an expert cartographer. I make it all the way to his collarbone, and then I decide I haven’t had enough so I start again. But before I can, Cole reaches out and snatches my wrist with the reflexes of a viper.
He doesn’t give an explanation; it’s not needed. Cole’s impatience is heating the air between us. His hunger is feeding mine. While he keeps hold of my wrist with one hand, his other hand traces the top of my panties. Ever so slowly, like he’s trying to catalog every last thread, he drags the pad of his finger along there. I’m flushed and needy. Every one of my nerve endings seems to have been brought to the surface. He eases off me a little. I twist my hips, and he slides his hand lower, over the soft satin material that covers me. His hand disappears between my legs, and then I feel him brush two fingers across the center of me. Oh, Cole.
I squeeze my eyes closed, partly in embarrassment, partly to keep from succumbing to his touch too quickly. I could. I mean, how long have I wanted this? How good does it feel to finally have Cole’s hand where I want it, toying with me, teasing the material of my panties aside so that his fingers can touch me—skin to skin. I writhe underneath him, and he smiles. I don’t even need to open my eyes to see it. I know it’s there.
“I like when you whimper,” he tells me with a cocky edge to his tone.
And then he rubs his fingers across the most sensitive part of me, and a small moan twists its way out of my throat.
I want more but I don’t know how to ask for it, don’t know how to even force an actual word out of my mouth with consonants and vowels. But then Cole doesn’t need my help. He delivers all on his own as his finger presses slowly inside me. Then he draws it back out and adds a second.
My hand finds his wrist, and I squeeze with a plea.
Continue. Continue FOREVER!
He chuckles under his breath, and then he shifts, lowering himself to the side of me so his hand can stay where it is between my legs but his mouth can find mine.