Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"You need to keep this bandaged. It's infected." His fingertip runs across my instep, and then he turns away.
He's back in seconds, the first aid kit in his hands. He pops it open and rummages through, setting aside various items before he finds what he's after. I open my mouth to tell him that I'm fine, but he glares at me before I can form the first syllable, so I shut up and sit patiently.
He cleans the cut with gentle hands, swabs ointment onto it, and then wraps a bandage around my foot.
"Thanks," I whisper when he's finished.
I expect him to let me go, but he doesn't. He looks up at me, his big hand still wrapped around my ankle. He's so close I can see little flecks of gold in his eyes and smell the coffee and minty toothpaste on his breath. I swallow hard at the heat in his gaze.
"You said you should apologize," he repeats his earlier comment now that he's done doctoring me up. "Are you sorry?"
"No," I whisper, unable to lie to him. Maybe I should be sorry for invading his privacy or throwing myself at him, but honestly, I think I'd do the same thing all over again. I want him, and I know he wants me, too. Taking big risks and putting myself out there has never really been my thing, but I want to take one this time.
He slides his hand up my calf.
"Are you sorry?" I ask, my gaze locked on the play of emotions across his face. They swirl through his eyes so quickly that I'm not sure where his head is at…what he's thinking…, or what he wants.
"No." His hand lands against my inner thigh, making me jump. "Easy, baby," he murmurs, placing himself between my spread legs.
"You apologized yesterday," I remind him, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips at the word baby. I love it when he calls me that.
"I lied." His mouth lands against my ear, his breath hot and heavy. "I'm not sorry for a fucking thing, Mila." His teeth clamp down around my earlobe. The sting sends a bolt straight to my clit. "You offered me two weeks," he says against my skin. "Did you mean it?"
"Y-yes."
He nips at my earlobe again like he's rewarding me for answering him. His hands skim across my thighs and then around to my hips. He grips me hard, holding me in place.
"I hope you're ready for me, sweetheart," he whispers. "It's too late to back out now."
Oh my–
Before I can finish that thought, his mouth is on my neck, his tongue against my skin.
A moan rolls from my lips, my fingers clamping down on his shoulders. He grunts as if he likes the feel of my nails digging into his skin. I like it too. His body is rock solid muscle under smooth skin. He's hard and warm, overwhelming me as he cages me in beneath him, trapping me on top of the island.
"You taste sweet," he murmurs against my neck, still exploring my skin with his tongue. One big hand grips my hip hard to hold me steady, the other strokes up and down my outer thigh, his fingertips teasing against the leg of my shorts.
My body coils tight, anticipating the feel of his hands on my bare skin again, but he doesn't give it to me. Not right away. He teases me first, never moving below the hem of my shorts or above my hip. I writhe beneath him anyway, trying to get some part of him closer to where I need him. He's barely even started, and I'm already soaked. My clit aches and pulses like it knows exactly what he's going to do to me.
"Roman," I groan, turning my head until his mouth meets mine.
He tastes like he smells—like spice, mint, and heat with a hint of coffee. His tongue touches mine. He's teasing there, too, giving me just a little but not enough—not what I want.
"I want you," I tell him.
"I know." He bites my bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth.
The little sting fades to pleasure in the space of a heartbeat. His body comes down on mine. He's so big. God, he's huge. I feel tiny underneath him as the island groans like it might not hold up our combined weight. If he notices, he doesn't seem to care.
He breaks away from my lips, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down my throat. His stubble scrapes my skin, leaving behind an itch to let me know where he's been. My hands slip from his shoulders and down his back. I'm not gentle about it either. I scratch and claw.
"Goddamn," he growls in pleasure, bucking his hips into me. His erection presses against my inner thigh. His mouth lands against my right breast.