Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
The elevator dinged, and he disconnected from me.
The doors opened and an elderly couple smiled at us, waiting for us to leave the elevator. Célian looped his arm in mine like we were a couple, and dropped it casually the minute they were out of sight.
The walk to his suite was silent, but I nearly drowned from the noise inside my head. I convinced myself this was the right thing. A no-strings-attached night of pleasure with an inhumanly beautiful tourist would take the pain away. I trailed behind him, watching his broad back and lean figure. He looked like he worked out for a living, but dressed like he had no time to hit the gym. His profession, however, would remain an unsolved mystery. He was flying back to France tomorrow, and whether he was a hot-shot lawyer or an assassin made no difference to me.
Once we were in his suite, he handed me a bottle of water.
“Drink.”
“Stop ordering me around.”
“Then stop staring at me, doe-eyed, waiting for instructions.”
He removed his blazer and kicked off his shoes. The suite was plush and tidy—too much so for an occupied room. It was huge, but I couldn’t detect any suitcases, phone chargers, a desolate shirt lying on the ground, or any other telltale objects.
On one hand, it looked suspicious. On the other, he looked exactly like the kind of psycho to not leave a trace behind. And I was in his room. Fantastic.
Note to self: After your actions today, try to base all your future decisions on fortune cookie advice. You’ll do better.
I drank the water he’d handed me without realizing I did so, then dropped the bottle in the trash like it was on fire, my rebellious soul dying a little.
It’s not too late to bail. Tell him you’re not feeling well and leave.
“I think I should—” I started, but I never got to complete the sentence.
He slammed me against the wall, his lips fusing to mine, shutting me up. My eyes rolled from the sudden pleasure and stars exploded behind my eyelids. I clutched the collar of his shirt as he hoisted me up in his arms and dug his fingers into my butt. My legs wrapped around his waist in no time. He gyrated against me, igniting lust in my lower belly, and when I moaned, he pinched the side of my thigh so hard I tried to fight him off, only to find sinking my claws into his skin felt a lot like drowning in an eternal kiss. His lips were crushed, hot velvet. His body stony marble, and hard everywhere.
Célian slid his tongue into my mouth, and I let him.
He rolled his hips, his hard—very hard—cock pressing against my slit, and again, I let him.
He bit my lower lip harder and growled, then sucked the pain away. I cried for more.
He slipped his hand between us, nudged my panties aside, and dipped two fingers into me.
I was embarrassingly soaked.
The sexy stranger tore his mouth from mine, staring me down. “Time to finish your sentence, Miss Spears.”
“I… I…” I blinked, flustered.
He began to thrust his fingers in and out of me—slow, so tauntingly slow—his face still dead serious.
Who was this guy? He looked so unaffected, even when an involuntary groan escaped my lips every time he dug deeper and deeper into me, his fingers curling and hitting my G-spot. His other hand traveled up to my breasts, twisting one nipple roughly.
“You said you should do something.” His hand left my sex momentarily to paint my lips with my desire for him, before returning to its new favorite place between my legs. He tasted me on my lips. “What was it, Judith?”
Judith. The way he rolled the J between his teeth made me want to die in his arms. His hot tongue was on my neck, chin, lips, and then between them again. We were tangled together like we needed each other to survive. I knew it was just one night, but it felt like so much more.
“I…eh…nothing,” I said, fumbling for his zipper between us. He pressed one of his hands over mine, pushing my palm against his huge hard-on. Now I had a whole different reason for panic. That thing could maybe fit in my gym bag. Not my vagina.
“I set the pace,” he said.
I shook my head. He wasn’t the boss of me. He slipped two more fingers into me—most of his hand—and I was so full I thought I was going to smolder. A growl escaped my mouth. He swallowed it into our filthy kiss, and I came on his fingers in an instant.
The pleasure was so intense I turned to mush against the wall, sliding along it like spaghetti. Célian elevated me back up, digging his fingers into my cheeks, holding my jaw in place and tapering his eyes at me. “You better taste as good as you look.”