Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
He shaved for me. Made sure I’d want to kiss him.
The realization is heady. Powerful. I want him to mark me. To bite. To suck. To leave some lasting sign that I was his. That he wanted me. Even if just for a little while.
The sudden wave of melancholy recedes as he takes my face in his hands.
“Look at my hands, Mila. They’re shaking, I want you so much. Let me take you to the room.”
“Let’s stay here.” My eyes fill with silly tears. This man makes me want things I shouldn’t. The wedding of a lifetime was enough. I can’t allow myself a perfect wedding night.
“You’re sure?” He pushes my hair from my face.
I nod. You can be mine for a little while.
His kiss is pure perfection, his tongue licking into me, rich and clever. My pleasure quickly spirals, my need along with it. I whimper as he begins to pull away.
“Hush now. Just a taste,” he whispers as he begins to lower.
I gasp at a sudden loud noise—something scraping over stone. Then something begins to topple, a metallic sound ringing out. Moments later, a broom handle falls and wallops Fin across the back.
I giggle. He makes a frustrated huff, but it doesn’t stop him from beginning to gather my dress, pushing it up my legs.
Amusement dies, and I gasp as his hand slides between my knees, his rough fingertips tender against my skin. My body bows, my thoughts wild as I arch and meet his touch. There. Yes, there. Aching, pulsing, I’m reduced to nothing but sensation, no longer skin and bone.
But then the backdrop changes, the light suddenly so very bright against my eyelids. I inhale deeply, because this smells right. It feels real and heavenly as I run my fingers along his neck. His stubbled cheek.
I must’ve been dreaming, or maybe it was a memory. Outwardly, things have changed. Internally, my body is still crying out for him.
“You’re here,” I whisper, sliding up Fin’s body to reach his ear.
“Mila?”
I purr and run my hands over him, unable to touch enough to meet my satisfaction. It was a dream. It was a memory. But I’m so ready to make it real.
“You’re so warm,” I whisper, pressing my teeth into the corded muscles of his neck.
“Fuck.”
I smile, biting my lips as though to contain it.
“Mila, are you—”
Fin’s voice is husky with sleep, and his skin smells so damned delicious. Warm and musky and like lemon verbena. Which is oddly specific. Is it his cologne? Whatever it is, it makes me want to lick his skin. So I do.
I deserve this. I want this. He is such a good man—and he wants this too.
“You smell amazing,” I whisper, spanning my hand across his chest. Smooth skin. Hot man. “You taste so good.”
“Mila, love.”
I’ve never loved the sound of my name as much as I do right now. Full of aching want. I could bottle the sound, stock up on his masculine moans, and huff them like a gateway drug when I’m alone.
Because I will be alone, I know. But I don’t have to be now. I can take what he offered. It doesn’t feel as though he’s changed his mind . . .
His hand curls around my shoulder, moving me, and . . .
We give a joint groan. I’m so slick, and he’s so hard. And I appear to be riding him. Not full penetration, but enough to feel how hot and hard he is. Enough to make me pulse and ache for relief. It’s good—so good. And so tempting as I adjust my position, and—
“Oh!” The wet slide of him, the bump of his crown against my clit. “I need you,” I whisper, pushing my hand between us as I suck the salt from the skin, as I undulate, seeking relief. “So, so much.”
This is what I wanted. My wedding night. What I wanted to remember, to feel him beneath me, shaking with desire.
His arms come around me, and he’s panting so hard, I’m pretty sure his breaths could blow a little pig’s house down.
“Fuck.” The ache in his words. A pleasured hum in my response. “Please, please tell me you’re not asleep. That I’m not dreaming.”
“I’m not asleep, but it feels like a dream.”
“It feels like heaven.”
“I want you, Fin. Can’t you feel it?”
His thick swallow. “You’re the only thing I can feel right now. I can’t believe I slept on the couch when we could’ve been doing this.”
Finally, his hands find my hips, and he rocks into me.
But. But.
He was on the couch, making a phone call. I fell asleep. I had pajamas on.
Baba. The nursing home. The loan. I can’t have sex with him—it would muddy the waters!
I jerk upright; only, that’s not quite right, as Fin’s hands tighten. How come he’s naked too? Why’s he underneath me? Hell, how come he’s in this bed!