Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
His gaze flits from my eyes to my mouth, down my body and back up again, almost as if he’s looking for the right words. “You’re…incredible.”
I can’t help but smile. It’s almost like this confident, unshakeable American is…kind of awkward.
He takes a half-step forward, pinning me against the door, cupping my face and kissing me like he wants to prove me right. Like he wants me to be assured his kisses are the best I’ve ever tasted, the most passionate, shudder-inducing kisses I’ll ever experience.
The passion rachets up between us and I press my hand on his chest.
He doesn’t want it to be frantic and frenzied. He wants things a different way. So that’s what he’ll get.
I shimmy out of my knickers before hooking my fingers into his waistband and crouching so I can take off his trousers and boxers.
“You’re beautiful,” he says as I stand. He presses a kiss to my lips. His expression is almost pained and part of me wants to delve deeper—understand what’s behind it.
“Is it better now we’re both naked?” I ask, taking his hand in mine.
He nods and leads us over to his bed. “I just needed to find some self-control.”
The bed’s high and I sit on the edge, pulling him between my legs. “I want you to be exactly yourself with me. If you don’t feel like you can resist me, that’s okay.” I smile up at him.
He chuckles. “You can joke, but it’s a problem.”
“For me too,” I confess.
It’s lighthearted between us, but we’re only telling the truth. My mind skips to thoughts of the future. How will I feel when he leaves? What will happen to Crompton?
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. I can’t think about anything apart from Vincent and me and enjoying this moment between us right now.
He reaches between my legs and instantly I’m liquid. What is it about the way he touches me?
His erection stretches flat against his stomach in front of me and I sweep my fingers up his length. He growls, half desire, half disapproval, and steps back. Again.
“Vincent,” I say as he turns his back. But he’s not teasing or torturing me. He’s obviously looking for condoms.
“This bed,” he says. “I’ve imagined you in it from the first night I slept in it.”
He finds what he’s been looking for and retakes his position between my legs.
“Wish granted.” I smile up at him.
He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. “You’ve been occupying far too much of my brain.”
Expertly, he opens the condom and stretches it over his erection.
“You mean, the brain in your…” I point at his penis as he grips the base.
“My…?” he asks as he smooths the head down my folds. I sigh, relieved this is finally happening. “You should really be able to name it given I’m about to fuck you.”
My stomach flips over at his raw words. I can’t wait.
“Maybe I’ll be able to after you fuck me,” I say, and my entire body throbs. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s teasing me or because I’m looking forward to what’s next or I’m about to come.
He holds my gaze and drives into me. It’s not harsh or sharp, just determined and unrelenting. When he finally stops, I gasp, exhaling with short, sharp breaths.
“Oh, baby, we’re only just getting started and you need to catch your breath already.”
Did he talk to me like this the first time? Maybe it feels more intense because I know him now. Because tomorrow he’s going to look at me with the same eyes he’s staring at me with now, only from behind a desk.
I steady my breathing and just as I feel settled, he starts to piston his hips, pushing in and drawing out, filling me to the brink and then leaving me bereft with every press and pull. I curl my fingers around his shoulders, gripping as if my life depended on it, trying to resist the inevitable for just a few moments longer. It’s futile. My orgasm has been pacing up and down, waiting for the feel of him for weeks. Now he’s here, between my thighs, leading a marching band to my climax.
“Vincent!” My voice is breathless and desperate. I’m so close and if he doesn’t stop, I’m only going to last a few more seconds.
“I’m here, Kate. Let go.”
I don’t know if it’s his permission that sends my orgasm shooting up my spine or whether it was what came before it: I’m here, Kate. The words tumble about in my brain as I press my fingers into his skin. He smooths his hands up my back and pulls me close and I realize my entire body is convulsing.
What did he do to me?
He slows but doesn’t stop, pushing into me, through my orgasm, keeping us together, linked, bound.