Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
A hint of a grin twitches along the corner of his mouth before he strides off and I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to wrap my hand back up now that I tore the —
Wait.
I pull my palm closer, frowning at the skin there. The perfect intact, not even a scratch in sight skin.
Huh. I guess Ben did a better job than I thought.
Neosporin for the win!
Slowly, I step up to the fire, admiring the wicked flicker of the flames that flash from red to blue and hold my hands above it. I close my eyes, and before I realize I’m doing it, my hips begin to sway, the music suddenly matching the beat in my chest.
With my sight blocked, my skin grows warmer by the second and the sensual rhythm rolls through my ears. I lose myself, giving my body and mind over to whatever the hell flows through my system.
I’m a fucking victim of my own making, and I’m dying for someone to make me theirs for the night.
As if my naughty prayers reach beyond reason, a strong body presses at my back. Arms snake around my waist, tightening as I sink into their form, craving more.
I lift mine, wrapping them around the person’s neck behind me, and I’m rewarded with a low groan that sends a shiver down my spine. I try to turn, but he holds me still, dipping his head into my neck. I gasp at the razor-sharp swipe of his tongue against my flesh.
“So fucking sweet,” he rasps, nipping at my ear. “Not that I forgot…”
My muscles lock, my heart rate spiking, and finally, his hold eases enough for me to spin. How? How do I not care about anything but him at this moment? Probably because I want to get laid, and if I had to take a pick, I’d rather the hot stranger I find myself wanting to kiss. Men are allowed to be vocal about their sexual appetite. I have no shame in announcing mine. I know what I want and what I don’t want, and I have no problem vocalizing that.
I nearly lose my balance when my eyes lock with my new favorite color.
“Knight,” I whisper, struggling to catch my breath with every passing second.
His turquoise gaze glitters with mirth, yet it does nothing to hide the savage swimming within them. “London.”
His left arm comes around me once more, his right coming up so he can tease me with his fingertips, drawing goose bumps on my flesh along the path he traces from my bicep to my neck. When the pad of his thumb brushes along my lower lip, my tongue flicks out for a tiny taste.
Knight groans and we begin to sway again.
“Like this dress, babe.” He bends a little until the hem is in his hands, and he bunches it, dragging it up higher and higher until the chilled air sweeps across my exposed ass, my thong doing nothing to hide me from anyone who cares to look. I like my body, so I don’t give a shit who sees. Besides, there’s a naked chick hanging in the air, spread eagle. I’m fine…and my pussy is prettier than hers anyway, so people can look all they want.
“I’d like it more on my bedroom floor, though.” Both of Knight’s hands find my ass now, and he squeezes, pulling me closer, grinding me against him. “I bet you look good splayed open on black satin. We would go all night.”
We.
He and I. Since when?
“Feel what you’ve done to me?” he rasps, grinding his hard cock against me.
I nod, unable to speak as I wrap my hands around his neck, dying to get closer. The room swirls into a bunch of colors as the ache in my belly intensifies. I need something. Anything. Well, not anything. Sexually driven doesn’t mean easy.
Knight hugs me back, his lips pressing to my temple. “Someone’s a cuddler, is she? I like to cuddle too. It makes it so easy to slide back in. Do you want me to slide in you? I could do it right here if you want.” I don’t even bother to catch his words, unable to hear them as I grind myself against him.
Suddenly, a second set of hands find my hips and my lungs expand as I peek over my shoulder, finding we’ve rotated around the fire, and the blue-eyed boy who was behind it is still there, sitting, his hands larger than his brother’s, fingers sprawling along my ribs.
“This is Legend,” Knight whispers, urging me backward.
Legend’s name is perfection. He is quite legendary, somehow even hotter up close, like a giant, muscular teddy bear I want to bury myself in. He leans back farther, his jean covered thighs falling open as he gently eases me down on his lap, the slight dip of his chin all the encouragement I need to allow him to put me where he wants me. His zipper scratches against my bare ass, but I drive myself deeper into it, desperate for the friction. My hands cling to Knight, though my eyes have yet to leave his brother’s.