Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Almost ready?” His voice is low, a rough edge to it that sends a thrill straight through me.
I glance at him in the mirror, catching his reflection as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a black suit, and damn if he doesn’t look good in it. There’s an intensity in his eyes, the kind that makes me want to close the distance between us and kiss him senseless right here, right now.
“Yeah,” I manage to say, my voice sounding breathier than I intended. “Just finishing up.”
He pushes off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps toward me. The tension between us is electric, and my pulse quickens with every inch he closes. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s a dark hunger in his eyes that I recognize all too well.
I swallow hard, my grip tightening on the edge of the counter as he comes to stand behind me. He doesn’t touch me, not yet, but the heat of him is overwhelming, and I have to fight the urge to lean back into him, to give in to the pull that’s always there between us.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for you,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper.
A slow smile curves his lips, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly over the bare skin of my arm. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my neck. “Because I don’t think I can ever get enough of you, either.”
I shiver at his words, my heart pounding in my chest. God, why does he have this effect on me? Just his touch, his voice, and I’m melting, completely undone. I turn my head slightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror, and the intensity of it takes my breath away.
“Benedict…” I start, but whatever I was going to say fades into nothing as he leans down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to my neck.
“We should go,” I manage to say, my voice shaky as his lips trail along my skin. But even as I say the words, I know neither of us really wants to leave. Not yet. Not when the air between us is crackling with this kind of tension.
His hands slide to my waist, pulling me back against him, and I can feel every hard line of his body against mine. “We can be a little late,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, and my resolve weakens.
I close my eyes, feeling the heat of his body radiating through me as I press my ass back against him. The hard ridge of his arousal meets my curves, and a surge of pleasure shoots straight to my core. His low, guttural growl vibrates against my ear, and it’s like tossing a match into dry tinder. Every inch of me responds, tightening, aching with the need for him.
His hands grip my hips, firm but gentle, guiding my movements as I grind against him, and I can feel just how much he’s holding back. His restraint is tantalizing, making me want him even more. “Don’t stop,” I moan, my voice breathless, desperate for more.
“Don’t plan on it,” he whispers, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of my neck. His voice is a rough promise, dark and hungry, and it sends shivers down my spine. I can feel the pulse of his desire in every word, and it matches my own heartbeat, erratic and needy.
He pushes the hair of my wig aside with a smooth motion, exposing the delicate skin beneath. His lips follow the path of his fingers, peppering slow, deliberate kisses along the curve of my neck. Each kiss is like a spark, igniting a fire in me that I can’t control. My skin is on fire, and every point of contact sends a new wave of heat coursing through my veins.
I arch my neck, giving him more access, my body craving every touch, every kiss. The tension between us is electric and the air in the room feels thick with it. His lips linger on a particularly sensitive spot, and I can’t help the soft whimper that escapes me.
“God, you feel so good,” I murmur, turning around to face him as my hands slide up to his forearms.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growls against my neck, his voice low and full of restrained need. His hands slide up my sides, fingers brushing lightly over my waist, sending goosebumps scattering across my skin.
The heat between us is unbearable. My entire body feels like it’s humming, on the verge of combusting. My mind is consumed with thoughts of him—of us—wrapped up in this intoxicating moment. I’m so turned on, the ache between my thighs growing more insistent by the second. The way he touches me, the way he claims me with every kiss, is driving me wild.