Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Turns out she didn’t need my help.
“Oh.” She flushes when she feels me through my jeans. Then she smiles this delicious little smile I have to kiss away. She responds immediately to my lips on hers, settling down onto me farther, rocking her hips rhythmically. My hands move on their own, gripping her and helping her grind down on me harder. God. I kiss my way down her neck, lower. My lips graze her breast, over the black lace, under it. I suck her into my mouth and her fingers dig into my hair and tug.
“How am I doing?” she asks between heavy breaths.
“Scarlett.”
“Because I can swivel my hips more, or how about—”
I kiss her again and shut her up. She kisses me back and works her hands down the front of my torso, down under my shirt so she can start to work it up and off me. I have that thing yanked off in a matter of seconds and then her hands are on my skin, wandering over every inch of my chest like she can’t get enough of me.
“God, you’re all man.”
I laugh because I’m not quite sure how to take that.
She smiles and shakes her head. “I just feel like the guys I’ve been with…it’s like they think women want these waxed figurines. I want…” Her eyes widen as she looks at me, looking down at my boxer briefs peeking out over the top of my jeans.
I’m glad she didn’t finish the sentence. Everything we say tonight will make it that much harder to reset in the morning. It’s why I’m being so quiet. It’s why I’m holding back some.
For a few minutes on the couch, she’s on top of me, but we’re not kissing. Despite being turned on to the point of pain, we take each other in slowly. She undoes the button on my jeans. I push her hair back behind her ear so I can see the curve of her jaw and her flushed neck. She traces my abs with her pointer finger, getting accustomed to my body. It’s like we know this is our one shot. We better make it count. I want to memorize every inch of her.
My finger loops underneath the strap of her bra. When she doesn’t protest, I start to peel the black lace away from one breast, so slowly, and a shudder runs through me when I finally tug it all the way off. Her breast is perky and full and begging to be touched.
I oblige with my hand, then my mouth. Then…my teeth.
She hisses a curse under her breath and I chuckle and back away. She’s looking at me, utterly incensed, her eyes shining. I can’t just leave her like that, half exposed, so I slide the black lace off her chest completely and only bother to undo the clasp at her back after her bra is already hanging loose around her waist.
Scarlett’s work clothes don’t do her justice. Even those sports bras she wears to work out don’t truly give the full picture, but now I have it as she sits on top of me, and she’s unbelievable. I can’t keep my hands off her. I cup her breasts and run my thumbs over the tips, getting her worked up. She starts rocking on me again, slowly dragging her panties over my jeans to create friction.
She wants relief. She’s as desperate as I am. I loop my hands up around her neck, threading my fingers through her hair, and then I bring her mouth down onto mine.
I want her to come apart like this, like we’re two teenagers in high school, overloaded on hormones and desperate for any release we can get. I want to watch. I break our kiss and take my hands off her, laying them on the back of the couch on either side of me.
For a moment, she stills. I shake my head. “Keep going.”
Her nostrils flare and I look down to where her lace thong has slipped to the side, revealing just the barest glimpse of her. I tilt my head as she continues this maddening lap dance and the fabric slips even more. I reach down and help it along, hooking my finger on the left side and pulling it over.
My gut clenches tight. I shiver with pleasure at the precise moment she decides to be bold. She tips back and touches her hands to my knees, holding herself stable as she continues rocking. I know what this is doing to her. I can feel her shaking. I should be patient, but desire wins out and I have to feel her. I have to know what it’s like to brush my thumb over the center of her thighs, to tease and stroke her. I rub concentric circles as she continues grinding down onto me and then I know the exact moment she tips over the edge—that sharp inhale is followed by an earthquake of pleasure. She can barely contain it, and I don’t let her off easy. I want every last shake and tremble. When her eyes peel open, she looks at me like she’s just woken up from a trance, hotter now than ever.