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)
“Oh!” It’s said with excitement—a thrill even.
I meet her gaze with a smirk, maybe to cover up the way my heart is pounding too fast. “It’s…believable. This makeup kiss,” I say dryly.
“It is,” she deadpans.
Neither one of us lets go. I don’t want to. And when her fingers twist tighter into the fabric of my shirt, I take that and run with it. “We should be sure, though,” I suggest.
“Yes. Please. Be sure.”
I take another kiss. I deepen it this time. Somehow, it’s more urgent and hungry. I grip her hair more tightly, and she takes a step back, pulling me with her, then another till the back of her legs hit the couch. She tugs me down onto the sofa.
This is so damn risky. And yet I move with her, flopping next to her onto the cushion, then pulling her onto my lap, my arms wrapping around her. She straddles me, hands gripping my face. The kiss is electric, sending shockwaves through my body.
We could kiss all day. All night. All year.
This is hardly a kiss for believability’s sake any longer. It feels all too real in the press of her palms on my stubble, in the heat of her skin, in the subtle grind of her hips. She’s not quite sitting on my lap, but she’s damn close, and she’s rocking slightly.
And that feels all wrong too. All wrong to let her walk away unfulfilled. Good thing I know how to negotiate. I break the kiss, smooth a palm across her soft face. “I’m sorry I was such a dick.”
“You were a dick.”
“Let me show you how sorry I am.”
Her irises flicker with questions and with excitement too. “What do you mean?”
My hand slides down her face to her neck, over her throat. She moves with me murmuring as I travel lower, over her breasts, along her belly, then to her jeans, teasing at the button.
“I want to apologize properly,” I say in a low, smoky voice.
“Wilder,” she says, like a warning, but an invitation too. She swallows, then asks, “How?”
She asks it like she can’t resist.
I pin her with a hot, molten stare. “With my mouth.”
“Oh god,” she whimpers, then slumps forward, as if desire has melted away her bones. Maybe even her common sense, too, since it’s obliterated mine.
In a second, she straightens, shimmies off me, and pops open the button on her jeans. I stand, head to the door, and flick the lock.
When I’ve returned to the couch, my eager fake girlfriend has pushed off her jeans.
“You do belong on the naughty list, Fable Calloway.” I stalk closer.
With a filthy grin, she says, “Why don’t you make sure of that?”
And as I sink to my knees on the soft carpet, I think of nothing but this white-hot need to taste her. She’s wearing that white sweatshirt and pink panties. “I’ve no use for these,” I say, hooking my thumbs into the waistband and skimming them down. She lifts up her hips, helping me along.
Her unchecked need matches my own. And when I slide them off her, the sight of her wet, pink pussy makes my cock thump. I groan in appreciation, then run my finger along her mouth, meeting her gaze. “Your pussy is fucking beautiful,” I tell her.
She gasps, then shudders, then stretches a hand to touch my mouth too. “So’s your mouth. The better to eat me with.”
I grin, like a wolf, then lower my hands to her thighs, spreading them apart, giving me a beautiful view of all that glistening wetness. I run the pad of my thumb along her pulsing clit. She jumps, then moans.
“You really like fighting, Fable,” I tease.
Her hands dart out and she grabs my head, gripping hard. “And you better really like apologizing.”
“Oh, I do. I really do…when it comes to you.” Then I show her how sorry I am. I kiss her pretty clit, flicking my tongue up and down as she gasps and groans. I suck on her, my eyes rolling back in my head from the heady taste of her desire. Her hands dig into my skull. I swear I can feel her nails, and that revs my engine. It amps up my own lust. I suck harder, kiss deeper, lap her up.
She hitches up a leg, gripping my head harder with her inner thigh. Lust ricochets through me, and determination too. I press my palm to her other leg, push her open wider, raise my face. “Part those pretty legs for me, baby. Nice and wide. Let me worship this sweet pussy.”
Her eyes are glassy. Her breath is coming hard and fast. But she takes orders so damn well as she spreads her legs wide, making herself more vulnerable. “Like this? Does this help you say you’re sorry?”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I growl, then dive back between her thighs, feasting on her arousal, tongue-fucking my Christmas girlfriend till she’s rocking furiously against my face. Grabbing my skull. Cursing the most filthy oh fucks I’ve ever heard.