Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Sebastian, please.”
Driving into me deep and steady, he pushed me over the edge. I broke apart with indescribable pleasure, my body vibrating from a seismic climax. In an unguarded moment, a look of amazement swept across his face. And then he joined me, reared up and came hard, the sinuous muscles of his backside turning to stone under my fingertips.
“Holy shit,” he gasped between loud pants, “holy shit,” he repeated, before he buried his bewilderment in the curve of my throat.
I wrapped my arms and legs around him, held him tightly. Because I knew what he meant. This was more than incendiary sex. This was something else altogether––something I didn’t want to contemplate. I was so spent I almost fell asleep with him still inside of me. He kissed me tenderly: my eyelids, the tip of my nose, my lips. When he pulled out, the sting made me whimper. I knew I was going to ache a whole lot more the next day. And in the drowsy afterglow, I didn’t care.
The backs of my knees were…moist. Hanging in the air was the primitive scent of sex and sweat. A large muscular body pressed up against my back, branding me with scalding heat. Sebastian. It was all coming back to me now. His sex was wedged against my rear end, and a muscular arm thrown over my waist. I could feel the puffs of his deep and even breath against my hair. He shifted and pulled me closer, not sparing a millimeter between us.
Surrounded by him, I had never slept better. However, I needed to get back to my room before the house woke up. I picked up his wrist and squinted at the large face of his Rolex. The darn watch had no numbers on the dial. The large hand looked to be…
“What are you doing?” Still drowsy, his voice was deeper and raspier than usual.
“I can’t believe you let me fall asleep.” His rumpled hair and relaxed expression made him look young and outrageously sexy. “I worked you over pretty good,” the side of his mouth kicked up, “seemed like the polite thing to do.”
“When have you ever been polite to me?” I was only teasing but his face fell, grave all of a sudden.
“Vera…I…that’s over. I need to explain.” When I struggled to get up, he hugged me closer, his sex springing to life. My eyebrow shot up. “Be still,” he muttered.
“I have to get back to my room!” I whispered forcefully. “What time is it?” Anxiety made me restless to get going. He checked his watch.
“Three.”
The rigidity left my muscles, my fretfulness allayed momentarily. I swung my legs off the bed, and almost immediately found myself on my back, pinned under two hundred pounds of aroused, hot-blooded man. His fingers cradled my skull and his erection pressed against my abdomen. My eyes fluttered as he shifted and hit me squarely where I needed him. Good God…He knew where all the buttons were. In one night he had mastered my body, knew it better than I did. I watched him struggle with something before he spoke.
“I behaved like an asshole because…I didn’t like the way you made me feel.”
My stomach sank, the euphoria fading fast. “Yes, I’ve heard this before,” I said with a touch of indignation in my voice. “You didn’t like finding yourself attracted to the housekeeper. Quite an inconvenience, I get it.”
“No. That’s not it. Vera, look at me.” I turned my head and held his gaze. The disappointment, without a doubt, was apparent in my eyes. “I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. At first, it was just a physical attraction. I figured sooner or later it would just––I don’t know––go away, as I got to know you.”
“Let go of me,” I insisted, and tried to push him off to no avail.
“Be quiet and listen––it didn’t. I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anybody.” He exhaled sharply. “I…I couldn’t stay away. I tried. I just couldn’t do it,” he admitted, shaking his head as if it still bothered him. “I hated myself for it so I took it out on you for making me feel…weak…out of control.”
His voice trailed off. I saw what that confession cost him before his eyes darted away. When they returned to me, however, they were open, reflecting the depth of his feelings. There was wonder and desire present, a flicker of hope––but what stirred my curiosity was the large dose of unease.
“Like pulling pigtails?”
His lips twitched. “Something like that…I’m sorry,” he said softly, stroking my hair back. “Can we start over?”
I would forgive him anything if he kept looking at me that way. “Yes,” I replied, the word pushing past a lump in my throat.
His eyes brightened and a spot somewhere around my heart ached. I liked seeing him happy. I wanted to make him happy…and that scared me half to death.