Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I am lost in her beautiful honey depths, and softly, I whisper, “I know I shouldn’t kiss you right now, but I really fucking want to.”
Her lips part for two seconds, and then she whispers back, “I haven’t been kissed before.”
I pause, my body feeling like I was just tossed into the ice bath with no warning whatsoever. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”
“Not a guy. My family, of course, but not in the way I want to kiss you,” she says boldly, and the surprise of her own damn words is all over her sweet face. “Or have you kiss me.”
Well, fucking goddamn. My mouth goes dry, my chest feels like my heart is cracking its way out, and every nerve in my body is firing off in ways I’ve never experienced. I know she can feel how hard my heart is beating and how quickly my breath is coming out. She is practically shaking in my hold, and when she moves her tongue along her lips, I’m frozen in place.
In a low voice, she whispers, “Please say something.”
A nervous chuckle leaves my lips. “What do you want me to say, Austen?” I whisper, my voice so low, I almost don’t hear myself. I take her in my arms, pressing her sweet, hot body into mine. “I’m trying to figure out if I need to stretch.”
“Stretch?”
“Yes, Janie, because if I’m gonna be your first kiss, I am going to ruin you for every man who comes after me, and I need to make sure I’m ready.”
Her breath catches, but then the most delicious grin spreads across those lips. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I drop my mouth to hers, but before contact is made, I whisper against her lips, “I couldn’t if I tried.”
Then I take her mouth with mine, her warm lips making me hard everywhere. I run my tongue along her lips, which I know may be a lot since this is her first time, but I can’t control myself. When she moans into my mouth, pressing her hips to mine, and opens her mouth for me, I know I’m in trouble.
Big fucking trouble.
twenty-three
Austen
I remember the first time I ate frosting-covered pancakes.
It was the breakfast Peepaw took me to when he picked me up on the side of the highway. I hadn’t eaten in four days because I’d bitten someone when they forced themselves on me. In my defense, I’d told them I wouldn’t give them what they wanted, and when he held my head in place against my will, I took matters into my own hands. Or my own mouth. In doing so, I was beaten and then denied food. I will never forget when Peepaw’s eyes fell on me, the pain, the sorrow, the guilt that filled his features. The only thing he could say was, “You need some frosting-covered pancakes, and I’m going to make sure there are extra sprinkles on them.”
The way the sugar exploded on my tongue and completely recharged me, healed me from all the shit I had gone through, is exactly how I feel as Dimitri’s lips press into mine. The only thing different this time is the need that swirls deep between my thighs. How my center pulses for him and how I feel as if I am going to explode at any second. He tastes like something sweet, maybe the wine he was drinking. His lips are so full, so warm, and his mustache tickles my nose, but I love it. I welcome it. I am moving my hands up his arms and onto his face, cupping his firm jaw as he devours my mouth. His tongue sweeps along mine, and I thank all the romance authors in the world for mapping out in words how to do this. I move my tongue with his, savoring his taste. A moan escapes me, wanting, needing more, and I press my hips to his. He slides his hands down the middle of my back, pressing me closer, and I can feel every single inch of him through his pants and my dress.
The heat coming off him is so overwhelming, but instead of freaking out, I will myself to give in to the pleasure. He wraps his arms around me tighter, squeezing me and lifting me off my feet. My hands go to his shoulders for support, but I don’t need it. He has me. Dimitri pulls back, just a whisper away, breathing hard as he kisses my lips softly, once, twice, then a third time. He presses his forehead to mine as I move my arms around his neck, holding him close to me. His eyes are still shut as he drags in deep, heavy breaths. Our hearts are beating so damn hard, I’m unsure whose is beating the hardest and loudest.
When I kiss his nose, he squeezes me, a ragged breath leaving his lips before he whispers, “I have wanted to do that since you fell off the treadmill.”