Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
“You’re crazy about me,” he said as his lips opened on my collarbone and his fingers tightened, stroking, tugging gently. The shudder tore through me, the hoarse moan uncontained.
“Dixon,” I called his name, hands in his hair, on his neck, down his back, clutching him to me.
“Tell me.”
“I need you.”
His lubed fingers slid inside me, and I rocked up into him, vaguely aware of the jingling of his belt buckle, the crinkling of foil. He was ready to sheath himself inside of a condom.
“Wait… you don’t––you showed me your last test on your phone this morning, and there’s only ever been you without,” I panted, my breath shuddering.
He froze, his eyes locked on mine. “Me too… I never, I would never… you trust that?”
“You… always.” I looked deep into his eyes. “With my life.”
The muscles in his jaw and neck tensed, and I saw his pupils dilate. I trusted him, and the fact that I did, that it was total and implicit, all of it tied up with how he saw himself, had turned him on big-time. I knew him, knew his heart, and I had given him the piece that no other man could. He didn’t have to convince me of who he was. I knew he was the good guy.
“Please,” I breathed into the side of his neck before I bit him. He smelled so good, and his skin tasted even better. I licked and sucked and nibbled and knew from the shiver that ran through him that he was just as far gone as I was. “Dixon… need you.”
He grabbed my legs, locking them back around his hips, and eased himself inside me, so slowly, so gently, filling me, his eyes never leaving mine. I watched his eyes drift closed, his head fall back as my name was whispered over and over. He had never felt so good.
“Jesus, Dixon,” I moaned, my legs wrapped around him so tight, my hands fisted in the sheets. I had missed him, the way he filled me and stretched me, and my body shuddered in celebration that he was home.
“Baby,” he growled, before he pulled out slightly only to thrust back in so deep, so fast that I yelled his name.
He froze, and I saw the fear wash over his face.
“No.” I laughed, and only with him could I ever laugh in the middle of sex. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“I don’t wanna hurt––”
“Dixon,” I murmured, my hands running over his hot skin, gliding over the rock-hard muscles, the chiseled abs, and delighting in the feel of his body against mine. “I missed you so bad.”
He drove deep inside me, and I was lost, mindless, the only thing that mattered was the man in my arms. My muscles clenched down on him, my body was hot and flushed, and the rolling wave of orgasm swept me up and drowned me. I screamed his name.
He thrust into me over and over, not worried, knowing that as hard as he could was what I wanted. It was overwhelming, because I knew his body as well as my own, knew when he wanted my legs as tight as they could be, holding him as he slid in and out of my now slick heat and kissing him fiercely, my tongue buried in his throat. He shuddered in my arms, my name breathed into my mouth as he released himself inside me, filling me. The kiss deepened, slowed as he slanted his mouth over mine, his arms holding me tight against his heart. When he pulled back, he stared into my eyes, and I stared right back.
“Christ, Ev, you feel so fuckin’ good.”
“You too.” My voice caught, sounding ragged. My hands were still buried in his hair, my legs still wrapped tightly around his hips.
“Shit,” he groaned, his arms tightening, making sure I couldn’t get free.
“Is there something wrong, Mr. Bain?” I teased.
He let his head fall forward, and I chuckled, lifted it so I could kiss his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, run my tongue across his swollen lips.
“Stop.” He moved his head, his eyes clouded.
“What’s wrong?”
He eased out of me, rolling me sideways, away from him so he could spoon around me.
I caught my breath. It was his favorite thing, to lie with his groin pressed against my ass, his thighs plastered to mine, his face in my hair, my head pillowed on his bicep. From the first time we had ever been in bed together, he had curled his larger frame around mine. And I had loved it and I had missed it, never being comfortable enough with anyone else to even ask.
“What are you thinking?” he asked me. “You’re a million miles away.”
I pushed back, wiggling my ass against him.
“Stop moving,” he ordered, tightening his hold.
“Dixon, you––”
“I want more than this.”