Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I think you were about to kiss me.” Oliver’s smoky tone beckons me closer like curling fingers. Like the sight of him isn’t incentive enough. His hair stark against the white pillows, the sheet lying low across his waist. I run my fingertips over his broad chest, admiring how a few days in the sun has turned him golden.
He hung around while I worked my remaining few shifts, fulfilling my commitment to the animal charity, and he used his time well (not once complaining about the lack of amenities) by surprising me with a few days on a luxury yacht before we left tropical Papua. A gift, he’d called it. Not a case of making decisions without me. A little time and a little space to reacquaint ourselves. And it was heaven.
Equally beautiful was our stop off in Singapore. Lucy and Oliver were so lovely to watch together. I left them alone to talk and heal old wounds. When I returned, it was like meeting the siblings together for the first time. They were so different. So smiley. So . . . ornery in their love language.
And now we’re back to reality. To London and whatever our future together might bring. And I cannot wait to experience every moment of it. We have so much to look forward to. Helping Nora get the sanctuary’s charity up and running. And I’m pleased to find Yara is coming on board, especially as Oliver and I are going to be a little busy with Northaby.
We have so many plans and so much to learn about running a safari park.
I won’t own Northaby outright, because that would be madness. It’ll be held in trust, securing it for future generations to love.
All because of his love.
It’s not so much a Pemberley that he’s provided me with but a legacy. There’s still going to be a hotel, because Oliver wouldn’t be Oliver without making money. The place is getting a whole new lease on life and an influx of billions. And we’re going to have an apartment there. Maybe even a wing . . .
As special as that is, it’s not what made my heart sing.
Northaby is set to become a new kind of vacation, one that’s accessible for families of all incomes. We’re preserving everything, sharing everything—the animals and the history as we open the whole place up to the public. It’ll be a place of learning about the past and the future as we aim to educate our visitors in conservation. It’s the best gift in the world. One I get to share with the world.
“What are you waiting for, darling?”
What I won’t ever share is this man. He is so wonderful, so handsome, his eyes bright and expectant, a sultry smile playing on his lips.
“Don’t rush me,” I whisper, cupping my hand to the back of his neck, my finger teasing the soft hairs there. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be.” He makes a noise of masculine contentment as I press myself closer, my breasts rubbing his chest through my thin robe.
“Eve.” He’s all ache and want as I rock my body over his, barely touching the sheet that’s not exactly covering his—
“Oh!” He whips it deftly across the bed, pulling my body down to his. Hard meets soft in an instant, and I whimper, my insides turning molten.
“You are so beautiful.” His compliments turn me pliant as his fingers slide the robe from my shoulders until it pools at my waist. “Your freckles,” he whispers, trailing his finger across my skin. “So pretty and just begging to be kissed.”
“Sweet talker.” I sigh as his lips trail across my skin, as he lifts my breast, his eyes turning languid as he sucks my nipple into his mouth.
“Sweet is watching you ride me.” He blows a cooling breath over the hardened peak.
“Yes . . .” I push up onto my knees, my hand sliding between us to slip across my hot center in a bare caress.
“Fuck, yes. Touch yourself. Let me watch. Eve, in the garden of temptation.”
“Lady garden,” I half rasp, half laugh, undulating over him.
“You look like my fantasy brought to life. All lush curves, wet pussy, and pleading, fuck-me eyes.”
His words are a filthy kind of reverence as I slip my fingers inside. As I writhe. “My Romeo has such a dirty mouth,” I whisper, loving his eyes on me.
“I’ll let you ride it in a little while.” His voice rasps like sandpaper as he grasps the base of his cock.
“God, I need to feel you inside me.” Pleasure pulses through me as his tongue moves over my nipple. I buck. I break. Come apart, just a little bit, there, against him.
I feel so utterly owned and loved as he presses himself to my opening. Our breaths hold as I take him inside, as he holds me there, his eyes never leaving mine. We are wild and unrestrained as we express our love this way, our pleasure too great to prolong as my love spills at his words.