Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Seeing nothing else.
He takes in every detail, like he’s trying to brand me on himself.
I don’t know when I started shaking. But when he coaxes my legs apart, when he brings himself down against me to rest our bodies together, I’m a trembling wreck as I touch my fingers to his lips.
They’re so hot, so full, and I want their taste so bad.
“Kiss me,” I whisper. “Kiss me and don’t stop.”
Still no words.
Still only obsessed eyes and those possessive hands raking my thighs until my skin burns with his touch.
God, I’m so wet for him I could die.
Not a sound.
I’m expecting another onslaught. But when he bends over me, when he presses his mouth to mine, it’s lighter.
It’s sweet.
Somehow, that strips me more naked as his mouth strokes mine tenderly.
He kisses me like I matter—and that’s going to rip me apart even more if morning comes and it turns out I mean nothing.
Right now, it feels like I mean everything.
Like this is everything as our mouths and bodies twine and with every second our hands explore each other.
There’s more skin—more than touch—more than clothes falling, until there’s nothing but our bodies and the hiss of sheets and this perfect rhythm that feels like us.
Every inch of me shivers as I feel his roughness, his masculinity, his strength moving over me.
Holy hell.
“Elle, fuck,” he whispers.
It’s like he’s caressing me with his entire body, lighting me on fire with friction.
Everywhere he’s hard, I’m soft.
Everywhere he’s rough, I’m smooth.
Everywhere he’s hot—
Oh my God, I’m hotter.
As his angry cock rubs my stomach and thighs, as the dusting of dark hair on his chest teases my nipples, I become a writhing mess from the gentle torture of it.
I stroke over his back, dipping my tongue against the heat of his mouth, tracing the stark muscles surrounding his spine with fascination, drawing on him like I could pull him into me, merge us together, match the racing beat of my heart to his.
I feel too vulnerable right now.
Yet his strength over me holds me safe, holds me close.
Holds me deep as we fit together oh so right, and then his mouth soothes mine slowly and deeply.
On the next thrust of his tongue, he’s inside me.
A long, punishing stroke that takes forever to fill me, forcing me to feel every inch until I arch my back and dig my nails into him.
But he won’t let me break this silence.
Not when he drinks every sound from my lips, locking us in this thing like a sacrament, binding us together.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t know anything but him as his cock plunges deep, and I feel him in my darkest place where everything trembles and the lightest touch makes light explode behind my eyes.
Again and again.
Taking his sweet time, driving me mad.
I want it to stop and never end, everything swirling around me. I’m lost.
Nothing has ever felt as good as August Marshall filling me now, stretching me open, making my thighs clench and every inch of me quake.
Even going slow, he’s no less powerful.
He sweeps me away like a fifty-foot wave, taking me over until I can only hold on for dear life and let myself be pulled under.
I’m drowning in this man.
Sinking.
Into his darkness, his need, and every time he fills me, every time he reaches that place, my entire body convulses with pleasure and this trembling, heart-singing emotion I don’t dare name.
I don’t dare name it, but it feels like it’s not just mine.
It can’t only be mine.
As the shivering ecstasy pitches me higher and higher, racing through me in waves with every thrust that leaves me dripping and clenching, gasping and writhing, raking my nails down his back, I feel him.
He’s in the storm with me.
Kissing me, taking me, shaping my body and emotions in the dark sweet calm between our chaos, letting us taste it like melting chocolate shared between our tongues.
More. More.
I can’t take it.
I’m a raw nerve, my thighs around his hips, my nails deep in his back, silent but screaming with my touch and the rake of my nails, with the grip of my knees and the arch of my body.
Too sensitive.
Too good.
Too much, too hot, too hard, too large.
I can’t contain this man to save my life, and he can’t contain me.
And when I burst with my pussy tightening around him, greedily drawing his pleasure out, quaking until I can’t, I’m more than combusting fireworks.
I’m an entire supernova, washing brightly over the sky.
And he’s my entire night that makes my light shine that much brighter, clutching me against him as I burn without mercy.
His heat locks my entire body up in throes of pleasure like nothing else I’ve ever had.
He’s tense against me, breathing hard, his darkness chasing me, and then he throws his head back with a roar.
I feel his cock swell, right before he turns into that shudder, that animal growl, that eruption that tells me he’s breaking and marking me from the inside out.