Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Oh God. Had I really just said that?
Please let him misunderstand me. Please, God. When I heard his laugh as I bolted up the steps, I knew he hadn’t.
5
LEVI
Charlie was naked. Just on the other side of the door.
If I’d had any decency at all, I would’ve gone to my room and shut the door. Given her some privacy. Instead, I stood in the hallway imagining exactly what she looked like with water running over that beautiful dark skin of hers. I wanted to lick the droplets off her nipples. Would they be big or small? Her breasts were on the small side—perfectly sized to cup in my palms, of course—but what was the diameter of her actual nipples?
Why was it so fucking important that I know?
Why was a stupid question.
Because I wanted to know every damn fact about her. Not wanted, needed.
I needed to learn where every freckle rested, memorize every dimple, crevice, fold. I couldn’t wait to get her on her back moaning my name as she came and came and came again. Back? Hell, up against the wall, bent over the arm of the couch, even in one of the horse stalls.
It was my job. Bringing her to pleasure was definitely my job.
She’d come, just as she was right now. Naked, wet. Just on the other side of the fucking door. Yeah, I knew exactly what she was doing.
My keen shifter hearing picked up the sound of the water splashing around her body, but it also heard the catch of her breath, the irregular panting, the intermittent soft moans. When she’d said she’d take care of her needs in the shower by herself, she’d meant it. She was using that fucking showerhead to get herself off right now.
I envisioned her legs parted, the spray hitting those dark folds just right so her clit was hard. I’d bet my left nut it was so swollen the hood was pulled back. The thrum of the spray must be getting her hot, getting her close to coming. My mouth watered to take over, to suck and nibble at that little pearl, to feel her fingers tangle in my hair as I made her come. Made her knees weak. Her breath catch.
Fuck me.
A muffled cry and then—shit… fuck… holy fucking fuck—my name, came through the door. I had to reach into my jeans and squeeze the head of my dick, so I didn’t come right there in my pants because she was thinking of me as she orgasmed. I dropped my forehead against the door as I tried to catch my breath, but all I picked up was her scent along with the soap I used. The combination made me growl.
Thank fuck the water was still running.
It stopped soon enough though, then I was thinking of her drying off, that soft towel running over every inch of her skin.
I set my palm flat on the door. “Charlie,” I said.
The quick inhale couldn’t be missed.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called, as if I wanted to get in there to take a piss.
“Was it enough, doll?”
She was quiet for a minute as I stared at the painted wood right in front of my eyes.
“Wh-what?”
“That little bit of pleasure you got. I bet it wasn’t enough. I can help with that. I can help you wring it all out.”
She gasped then was silent. And silent. I had to turn my head to even hear her breathing.
“You okay in there?” I asked. My dick punched against my jeans, eager to get to her.
“I’m… I can’t come out. Not with you there. Not well, ever.”
I grinned at the door. I love that I got her all flustered.
“I’ll walk away. This time,” I added. “Don’t be ashamed, doll. You never have to hide anything. Not from me.”
I pushed off the door and went to my room, closing the door loud enough, so she knew where I was, that I’d given her room. Just as I said, I walked away. My wolf was pissed, which was odd, but I did it. This time.
6
CHARLIE
“We’ll let them be for now,” Clint said. “Whenever you want, we can do an ultrasound and check follicle growth.”
He was walking with me up the hill to the main house for breakfast. The sun had been up for an hour, but it was still early. Still cool. Dew coated the grass.
We’d met at the stable at five-thirty to do the first hand breeding of Seraphina and Eddison, their prized stallion. It had taken less than an hour, and everything had gone as expected. Seraphina was in the pasture grazing, which was like a post-sex cigarette for horses. Eddison was back in his stall, getting some extra grain for his hard work.
“I’ll do it later today and again tomorrow,” I replied. “I have a spreadsheet.”