Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Trauma-bound.
The idea that we’re only a match-made because of our shared traumatic experience. If this were true, then I would’ve never fallen for him the first time. And I was instantaneously attracted to Donnelly the moment I woke up in the hospital—before I even knew what horrible things had happened.
“I don’t think it,” I whisper. “I think we’re…” A brain itch, one I can’t quite scratch, and I frown and shake the strange feeling away.
With Donnelly this close beside me, I inhale the scent of him. Minty and musky, a heady mixture I could bathe in. His forearm is braced on his kneecap. Angled towards me, he looks me over once more. It’s a lustful but caring caress, and my heart thumps a little harder.
Uhhh, I just want him to touch me. His jaw looks stubbled and rough, and I imagine running my fingers down the masculine planes of his face and his shoulders. I’m afraid if I even try, I’ll end up straddling him, and I’m attempting his speed. Slow.
You can go slow.
I wriggle and tug the hem of my black Kansas tee down. I nearly expose my neon-green panties, and now that my hand is so close to my heat, I consider touching myself. I try to lock my knees together.
He sweeps me again. “What do you need from me?” he asks.
“Huh?” I frown.
“What do you want me to do to you?”
My clit throbs in response. “Huh.” I say it less like a question and more like a stupefied girlfriend.
His lips quirk into the hottest smile I’ve ever seen. “Anything but my cock inside you. What do you want, space babe?”
39
LUNA HALE
I roast from pure desire. “Did you ask OG Luna that question?”
“Not in that way,” he admits. He settles his hand on my knee. It’s electrifying. My thighs quiver, and I try to control myself. Why is this so intense—being touched by him?
I fixate on how turned-on he seems from my body’s uninhibited responses. “My imagination runs deep, you know. We could go to some interesting places.”
He grins, and I wonder if he’s thinking about earlier, how I proposed that he fuck me in my sleep and how he’s game to pretend sleep-fuck me. “Oh, I know.”
The room swelters. Am I high? Am I dreaming this? I don’t really care either way. I just want to stay right here.
Donnelly slides the pen out of his ear and into the spirals of his notebook. Though, he keeps the pages open on his lap. With bed pillows behind our backs, we’re both propped against the headboard, and his gaze stays on mine with an intimacy that makes me blush again. “What do you want me to do to you?” he asks.
“Whatever you want to do to me.” I’m a breath from throwing myself at him and saying, I’m yours!
A smile teases the corners of his lips. “I wanna do too many things to you.”
“Yes,” I nod.
He laughs.
I don’t think. “Could you put your fingers in me,” I say on impulse. “I just want to feel them in me.”
My heart hammers as he presses on my kneecaps, and my legs lower flat to the bed. I watch his left hand, the one closest to me, dive underneath my black baggy shirt. He hooks a finger around my neon-green panties and slides them down my thighs. Farther. Until the fabric slips off my ankles.
I love this mysterious voyage.
“You breathing?” he asks, the huskiness of his voice another caress, and I nod a lot. His smile glimmers his blue eyes, and it’s hard to look away, even as he draws my shirt up to my hipbones, then higher and higher. Exposing my breasts. Donnelly leaves the shirt on me, the fabric bunched near my collarbone and tangled with my kyber crystal necklace.
The rest of my body is bare. Naked. Wanting. Needy.
Without angling towards me, he’s just relaxed like we’re watching TV together. Only, the TV isn’t on, and he’s become more enrapt with my vulnerable form. He traces the shooting star tattoo at my hipbone, and then he brings those same fingers to his mouth, sucking two of them. The image is orgasm-worthy, and I’m surprised I hold it together.
“I’m already wet,” I whisper, thinking he’s worried I’m dry.
Donnelly smiles like I’m cute or adorable, but I also just want to be so sexy that he can’t help himself and must destroy every inch of my being. He slides them out of his mouth. “Didn’t want to put them in you cold.”
He was warming his fingers for me.
He’s going to finger me.
Confetti cannons are blasting from my ceiling. The invisible spectators are throwing a parade around the mattress.
I’m so eager, so excited, that I miss the part where his hand descends between my legs. He slips one finger inside me, and my knees instinctively knock back together. I cage his finger by squeezing tight. Ah, the fullness. It feels so blissfully good.