Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
One of us had to break.
It might as well be me.
10
Eve
There was no sweet seduction. Whitt slid his wet hands up into my hair and crushed our lips together.
The tang of red wine coated his tongue as he delved into my mouth. We’d kissed…once. A soft thing on my doorstep after the wedding. More a good-bye than a start to anything. It had been an opening gambit to a long game.
This was the closing. An endgame move.
He was claiming the queen and dragging the piece to his side by force. Nothing could have stopped me from hanging on for dear life under the force of his kiss. There might as well not have been another kiss. Nothing compared to this. To him ravaging my mouth with a quick, controlled precision that said he had been thinking of exactly how to take me apart piece by piece.
And I was keen on letting him.
“Oh,” I gasped against his mouth.
He smirked, pulling back slightly with my bottom lip between his teeth. He slowly released it, and I had to shift to keep from combusting at the look of satisfied possession on his face.
I hadn’t been lying when I said that I was trying to figure out who he was. Every time I felt like I understood exactly who Whitt was, I was surprised all over again. On the outside, he looked like the uptight businessman. Rigid with his commitments and unyielding in his principles. There was no room for someone as flexible as I was in a life like that. I’d only just started to put myself back together after the last time I tried to mold myself to another’s idea of me. I didn’t want that again.
And here was Whitton Wright, bending to my whim. A man I’d never thought would crack under the pressure of my seduction. Let alone throw out his entire rule book to get his hands on me.
“This is what you want?” he asked. His powerful hands slid their way over my wet skin. He traced the line of my peony shoulder tattoo, across my ribs, under my breasts, and along my navel, heading south.
I arched into his touch. “Yes. God, yes.”
His hands went under the water, still tracing the outline of my body. The pads of his fingers ran along the line of my bikini bottom. Not dipping any lower, even when I adjusted myself to try to get him to go exactly where I wanted him. One strong hand landed on my thigh. He was running his fingers over my dream catcher.
His mouth went to my throat, and he worked his tongue up until he sucked gently on my earlobe. “I like your ink,” he growled into my ear. “I want to trace every inch of it with my tongue.”
I gasped, pushing my hands up into his thick hair. “By all means.”
His fingers dug into my thigh, holding me tighter against him. His cock jutting upward. Only two strips of thin material kept me from impaling myself on him. And, Christ, was he enormous. I’d silently hoped that the size of his hands and his over-six-feet height meant what I thought it meant. But now, there was no question in my mind, except how I was going to fit the entire thing inside of me.
“We should go upstairs,” he said. “And I’ll do just that.”
“I don’t think you’re fit to leave this hot tub.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I guess you’ll have to fix that.”
I pulled back and looked into his eyes in surprise. I hadn’t expected public anything would pique Whitt’s interest.
“That so?”
He held my gaze as his fingers moved upward, tugging the material on my bikini aside and slipping one finger down the seam of my pussy. I gasped both in pleasure and shock. Where had my good guy gone, and when had he become this daring? And why was I twice as turned on by the thought of doing this in public with him?
“Like this?” he asked and thrust a finger inside of me.
My head dropped back, and a strangled, “Yes,” escaped me.
He withdrew his finger and inserted two the next time. My entire body shuddered. His thumb found my clit and circled it as he worked up a slow, controlled rhythm.
“I…I was thinking your…cock,” I gasped as I rode his hand.
“You’ll get my cock,” he assured me. “You’ll get it when I’m good and ready to give it to you.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, only half-teasing with the nickname.
His free hand tightened on my hip, almost to the point of pain. It only intensified everything all at once.
“I want you to come for me first. Get you good and ready to take me.”
“I…”
Whatever I’d been about to say flitted from my mind as his mouth descended on my breast. He nipped at my nipple, dragging it between his teeth through the fabric. It pebbled at his insistence. All while his fingers thrust in and out of me.