Yours Cruelly (Paper Cuts #2) Read Online Winter Renshaw

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Drama Tags Authors: Series: Paper Cuts Series by Winter Renshaw
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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I wrap a hand, still gently, around each ankle, and spread her legs, lifting her core up to me. I kneel between her legs, opening her up to me, and place a kiss gently on each inner ankle.

Then, without warning, I drag her to the edge of the bed, and she lets out a breath of anticipation as I crouch before her, running my tongue up the inside of her thigh.

This is not a massage. Not even close. But she’s powerless to stop me as my tongue goes higher, to that sweet, soft, downy hair. I bump it with my nose as she falls back against the mattress, letting out a mewl as I part her pussy lips with my tongue and start to lick.

The taste is better than any dessert I’ve ever had.

“God, you’re so sweet,” I growl into her sex, lapping at her now like a wild animal. My hands wrap around her thighs, spreading them further, and she can do nothing but succumb to me, her abdomen, her whole gorgeous body quivering.

The licks turn to little nibbles, and then I bury my face at the apex of her thighs, taking her clit into my mouth and sucking hard.

That’s all it takes for her to come apart. I’m rock hard from the sight of it, the feel of her, coming on my tongue. I shove my tongue deeper inside her, wanting every last bit of her nectar.

She pushes herself off the bed, arching up to meet my mouth.

“Oh God!” she cries, staring at me as she comes down. “What the hell did you do?”

I grin at her. “Thar she blows.”

“Seriously? So you’re going to go with whale jokes?” She smacks me.

“Time to meet Moby Dick?”

She smacks me again, though this time, she’s smiling. “Seriously. You are so stupid. And that wasn’t even a massage.”

“No, it definitely wasn’t,” I say, sliding my hands up her sweat-slickened body and coming to rest next to her. She’s a mass of quivering nerves, and it’s more than I can stand, too delicious to resist. I want her to belong to me fully, just as I’ve always belonged to her.

She clings to me as I settle in next to her, running my warm hands down the length of her body, cupping her breasts and stopping at the barely-there roundness of her lower belly.

I kiss her, and kiss her more, until eventually, we fall asleep.

28

Stassi

Alec: I want you to sit on my face again.

I get this text right when the Uber pulls up at my parents’ house. Vivid warmth floods my cheeks and I thank the heavens that it didn’t happen while I was inside.

He’s been texting me dirty things like that, non-stop. Which can’t be good considering right now, he’s at work. I imagine him dealing with life-and-death situations, then picking up his phone and typing in these things. The last one was about giving me a “pearl necklace.” I can only imagine what he’s going to say next. It’s like he’s been holding on to these for years, waiting for a chance to use them on me.

Me: Stop. I’m at my parents’ front door.

I don’t really want him to stop though. I love the way it makes me feel, like a part of me that hasn’t been excited in years is finally waking up again. But I need to keep my game face on. I’m not ready to tell my parents anything just yet. I’m twelve weeks along, so I’m not quite showing, but I will be soon. My clothes are getting tighter by the day.

Yesterday, Alec and I went to a place downtown and picked out a bunch of maternity clothes, which made this feel realer than ever.

I still have time before I have to let my family know—but I don’t have forever.

Alec: I want you in my bed when I get home.

Gladly. I can’t wait.

Me: Don’t forget we’re going crib shopping tomorrow.

I pocket my phone, thinking about our little shopping trip. It’s just window-shopping and lunch downtown. We’re not buying anything—at least, not yet. I want to be at least halfway along before we make any choices. Not just because I want to know the baby’s sex, but because we still haven’t figured out the living arrangements yet.

Part of me thinks it could be so easy. I’ll just move next door, and we can use the spare bedroom in his place as the nursery. What could be simpler than that? Then I could keep my job at Ted’s—despite Alec saying I wouldn’t have to work at all if I didn’t want to. Despite the recent turn of events, the idea of relying completely on him for everything makes me nervous.

I don’t want to jinx anything.

The past few days have been amazing. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. But there’s always this little fear, niggling in the back of my mind. I’ve known Alec all my life, and yet, it’s still so tenuous. One little argument, one little off-handed Yours Cruelly remark, could make everything come crashing down.



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