Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Everything about him is purposeful. Every move he makes is intentional.
This is a man who knows what he wants, and I’ve never felt so desired as when he stares at me.
He is the opposite of…everything I’ve experienced.
I never felt this way with Brady. I never felt this way with anyone I’ve ever dated. I’ve never felt this kind of fiery gaze. This kind of need. This kind of desire from a man.
A cover list of sexy Christmas tunes plays from his phone as he shakes his head in admiration as he seems to eat me with his eyes. “This,” he begins in a smoky drawl as he regards me, “this is what I asked Santa for.”
A shudder runs down my body. “Me naked on a sleigh bed?”
“Yes. Because I want to unwrap you like the fucking gift you are.”
A wave of heat crashes over me from those words. Wilder doesn’t dirty talk like he’s reading routine filthy lines fed to him from AI. Everything he utters feels like it’s just for me. “I can’t wait,” I say.
“But first I’m going to remind you that you’re my gift. My present. Mine,” he says, as he tugs off his cashmere sweater, revealing a white T-shirt that shows off his muscles and toned chest.
I shiver from the possession in his tone. So single-minded. So certain. “How are you going to remind me?” My voice is feathery. I feel like I’ve been on edge all night, and I don’t think that’s going to end as he yanks off the shirt next, tosses it to the floor and climbs back onto the bed, shirtless and glorious.
His skin is toned and tan, and the tattoos on his forearms are on display—abstract designs that I keep meaning to ask about. But I haven’t yet. Right now, he doesn’t look like he wants to talk. He looks like he wants to do something else entirely with his mouth.
Because I’m learning something private about my boss.
He really likes to eat.
He slides his hands along my ankles, up my calves, and to my thighs as he spreads me open. “But I’m not going to unwrap my gift just yet.” His gaze is molten, his words gravelly. “I just want to…taste it.”
I moan and he hasn’t even touched my pussy. But I’m ludicrously wet for him.
He spreads my legs as wide as he possibly can, humming approvingly. “What a pretty pink gift. And I like my presents wet.” He rubs his trim stubble against the inside of my thigh, and I gasp. “And glistening.” He blows a stream of air against my eager clit. “And very, very horny.”
“You’ve got your wish,” I say, aching for him.
“Yes, I really have,” he says, like he’s mesmerized with me. On a growl, he buries his face between my legs and French kisses my pussy. The relief is instant and electric. Delicious heat spreads inside me as I throw back my head against the pillow.
My hands are bound at my chest so I can’t grab his hair, but I can arch my hips. And I do, shamelessly begging him with my body.
He laps me up, his tongue stroking up and down and flicking delirious circles around my clit. I groan and writhe—it’s just so good. Then he flattens his tongue and gives a long, thorough lick before he thrusts his tongue inside me. It’s like a circuit breaker fries inside my head and pleasure pops everywhere.
“Please, please, please, please, please,” I chant.
He stops, looks up innocently. “Please what?”
“Give me more than I can handle,” I beg, breathless with lust.
He returns to my thighs, murmuring, “Gladly.” Then he devours me till I come so hard my vision blurs and my brain goes offline.
A minute later, when I open my eyes and blink off the haze of pleasure, Wilder’s rising to his knees. He wipes his hand across his very satisfied mouth, then wastes no time dropping that same hand between my thighs and gently stroking me.
I flinch, since I’m still sensitive from the orgasm.
But he’s determined. “How about another?” he says, slowly building me back up, taking his time with long, tantalizing brushes of his talented fingers. “Think of it as my gift too.”
“My multiple orgasms are your gift?”
His grin is wolfish. “They really fucking are, Fable.”
“It is Christmastime, I suppose,” I say playfully.
He takes my yes and slides two fingers inside me. In no time, I’m grinding down on him, fucking his hand as he plays me once more and sends me over the cliff a few minutes later.
I’m desperately trying to catch my breath when he eases out his fingers and climbs over me. Bracing his palms on either side of my body, he gazes down with the most unguarded look in his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says in a rasp, then he crushes his lips to mine in a hot, passionate kiss that feels different from the ones that have come before.