He is Creed (Windwalkers #1) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Windwalkers Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
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His arms wrap around my legs just below my backside and he hikes me upward, pressing me to the wall, and placing my breasts at his mouth level. And then his mouth is on my nipple, licking and teasing me until I can barely stand it. My fingers tangle in his hair. “Creed,” I plead, and when he looks up at me, the animalistic quality in his eyes steals my breath.

He’s this over the edge for me—a scientist, who is hardly the seductress, and who barely lets a man in her bed, and some part of me I barely know feels like it wakes up and screams for this man.

He eases me to the floor, slides his fingers between my legs, pressing aside my panties, his fingers playing in the wet heat. I can barely breathe for how on edge I am, how absolutely aroused. And with his mouth on my neck, my head tilts backward, offering myself to him. His teeth scrape my flesh and then suddenly, he rips away my panties. I yelp with the shock of his actions, and I can feel the pulse of his energy, his hunger. Or maybe it’s mine.

He turns me to the wall, forcing me to catch myself on my hands. He’s behind me then, his thick erection fitting intimately to my backside.

His hands move over my body, caressing my breasts, my waist, my hips, until his lips brush my shoulder, and he orders, “Stay right here.”

And then he’s gone.

I try to turn and he catches my waist. “Stay, Addie.”

My heart leaps and sprints, as this is new to me. The truth being, that I’ve had a rather vanilla sex life. Nothing exciting. Nothing that made me feel any of the trillion emotions I feel but cannot name now. I don’t know how to be daring even if I want to be.

But then his hand slides around me and settles between my breasts, my body cradled to his as he speaks by my ear. “I will never hurt you. Ever. Of this, I swear to you.”

He’s not just talking about right now, in this moment, and I can feel this shift between us, an intimacy that reaches beyond sex. A need for trust in him and me, that I know will make or break us. “I know,” I say softly.

“You don’t know, but stay where you are, anyway.”

He waits for an answer and I whisper, “Yes.”

Only then does he caress a path down my arms and allow his touch to slide away, and I already want to pull him back to me. I want to turn, but this is an act of trust, and that is everything he wants from me. I can feel it. I can feel him in ways I cannot explain.

The air shifts, and I know he’s stepped away from me, and somehow the way he’d waited for my reply means everything. Allows me to trust him. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my naked body, and it’s ridiculously arousing to have him look at me but not touch me.

There is the sound of clothing being removed, and I think, finally. Finally, he will be naked with me. And then he’s back, his palm flattening onto my back and squeezing even as his fingers of the other hand, and Lord help me, his cock slides between my legs.

I moan, I can’t help it, the feel of him where I want him most, everything right now. But his assault on my senses is so far from over. His big body is wrapped around me, and he’s palming my breast while the fingers of his other hand slide between my legs and cup my sex, his thumb stroking my nub.

I’m melting right here against him, dripping wet and trembling with his touch. “That’s what I want, sweetheart,” he says. “Come for me.” He turns me around, and I have but a fleeting moment of him fully naked, and it is astounding how perfect this man is, before he’s on a knee, his hot breath on my belly.

His black eyes focus on me, and the color might be hell to some, but they draw me in and swallow me up in this pit of passion, where I just want to swim forever. He kisses my belly, licks my sensitive skin, and then his fingers are inside me, his mouth traveling lower and lower. I have not had a man between my legs in a very long time, since before my mother died, and I have never had one who knew exactly what to do with his tongue. Almost instantly I’m on the edge of something spectacular, embarrassed by the fact that I’m about to come. And I do. I come, right there on his tongue, clenching his fingers with my sex, my entire body quaking.


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