Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I’d assumed we’d make it to the bedroom, and maybe eventually, we will, but first? Phillip takes me against the back of the couch. He pushes down my panties, unzips his pants, fists his length, and unrolls a condom. I shimmy my hips, impatient, needy. He stretches me once more with his fingers, ensuring I’m ready, and then I feel him sink into me—all that heat pouring inside me until my elbows buckle and I fall over.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
I nod reassuringly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says while slowly pulling out of me only to thrust back in roughly.
God.
Why is it like this? How could he possibly understand this part of me so well?
“Casey,” he murmurs, caressing my hair, forcing me to turn my head to the side so he can see me. “Tell me to go slower. To go easy on you.”
He wants me to push back, but I won’t. I’d rather swallow my tongue.
“I—like it,” I say, my voice lilting up just as he thrusts in all the way to the hilt.
It’s magic, pure and simple.
I don’t overthink it; I don’t try and reconcile whether it’s proper or good for Phillip to be taking me in this way. I just feel it, enjoy it. I tease him and let the whimpers fall from my lips as the tightness in me starts to wind up like a band about to snap.
My toes are tingling as he picks up his pace. It’s maddening, but nothing I can’t handle. My hands bite into the back of the couch as I lean over even more. And I know without asking that Phillip loves the new arch in my back, the way my body drapes over for him.
I feel him in ways that I know will haunt me, but I don’t struggle against the burn. I let him tug my hair, fist it in his hand. Then he touches me between my legs, whispering those dark words again. Telling me what a good girl I am, how much he likes me like this, bending over the back of his couch, letting him have me in this way.
I let him take, and then he gives me everything in return—a second orgasm that has me crying out so loud I’m almost ashamed, but he feeds off my cries, tumbling into his own release, shuddering and pulsing so roughly it’s almost like I’m hurting him.
My name falls from his lips, and when it’s finally over, when I can focus again, I realize he’s propping me up, cradling me against his body now, holding me in a tight embrace.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he says, withdrawing and turning me around, holding my cheeks.
“I’m fine,” I say, almost laughing.
Does he think he hurt me?
He didn’t. Far from it.
He’s the one who looks shaken from the experience. He kisses me again, and then like a child who’s had a first lick of ice cream, who’s desperate for more, he asks, “How long do I get to keep you?”
Chapter Eleven
PHILLIP
I tip my head back against my chair and close my eyes, feeling the sea breeze ruffle my hair. I came out onto my balcony hoping the fresh air would give me clarity of thought. I inhale deeply, though it ends up sounding more like a heavy groan. Christ. I sit up and reach for my coffee cup on the low table in front of me, but I cut my sip short once I realize my drink has gone cold, again. Twice now, I’ve made a cappuccino only to set it down and forget about it as my mind wanders back to last night.
I can’t seem to stop fantasizing about her.
Casey’s body was extraordinary, and not just the obviously tempting parts—everything. Her intoxicating smile as she tried to hide her face against my pillow. The soft trace of her fingers down my back. The little tattoo on her hip. It’s so small I didn’t notice it at first. Not until I was stringing kisses down her stomach, pushing her back on the bed. We’d showered and ordered room service. She was tucked into a white terry cloth robe, and I couldn’t hold myself off her. The whole evening felt like a frenzy. I wanted her again and again, endlessly. At the time, she held a french fry midway in her mouth when I started to push her back flat onto the bed so I could part her robe.
She’d laughed and tried to push me away, but it was so halfhearted that it didn’t deter me in the least. God, she smelled good. She’d used my soap, but it smelled different on her skin, heady and tempting.
I kissed her stomach, and she strung her fingers through my damp hair with a familiarity that sent a shiver through me.
“What are you doing? I’m trying to eat here,” she complained.