Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
It’s a struggle to hold my eyes open, and only then, so I can appreciate the rigid muscle of his torso as he leans back and pulls his shirt off.
I think he rips a button in his haste.
But he’s bare for me, this broad-chested beast in all his wild, divine glory.
My hands slide down his abs—how are they even harder than I remember?—and then my mouth.
“Woman, go to town,” he urges. “Fucking touch me wherever you please. I’m all yours tonight.”
The edge in his voice gives me courage. So does the way he caresses my face. I kiss a trail down his neck to his beltline, and soon those hot little kisses become licks.
He groans like thunder.
Wow. I never knew how much I missed that sound.
“I like this dress, it looks damn good on you,” he says, right before he shears it open. The material splits, seams tearing loudly, and for once I’m not thinking about money. “But I like it better gone. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Holy shit. Um, I’ve never had a man physically rip off my clothes before.”
“You’ve never been with a man, then. Present company excluded.”
I. Am. Dead.
No, I don’t bother telling him my experience with men has been stunted and hilariously nonexistent since my last encounter. I’ve spent my twenties in a sexual desert that rivals the remoteness outside.
Juggling a job and a kid as a single mom doesn’t leave much time for dating, much less hooking up with guys who can cause you more trouble.
He throws what’s left of my dress to one side and slides back off the bed, standing like an angry god as he looks me up and down.
Oh, I’m so tempted to cover myself in the face of perfection—the stretch marks on my belly, the fact that my boobs aren’t half as perky as they were last time. But he shakes his head and swats my uneasy arm away from my chest.
“Don’t.”
I never thought a single word could be so loaded.
“But I’m not… I’m not as young or hot as you remember,” I whisper.
“Bullshit, Lady Bug. I dreamed about you,” he rumbles, moving back on the bed and pushing me down under him. “You know how many nights I thought about seeing you again? How many times I fucking came in my hand, remembering how we burned?”
Holy shit.
I tremble.
There’s no faking the sincerity in his voice.
The feral glint in his eye would make any red-blooded woman weak, and I’m no exception. I’m so drenched I can barely think.
“I want you, Salem Hopper. From your eyelashes down to your toes, but mostly, I want to be buried in your tight little pussy.”
My throat tightens. It’s this weird, heady mix, being so aroused but so nervous, too.
“I hope I don’t disappoint you.” I definitely didn’t wear the right bra for this. And if he notices the stripes all over my hips, he’ll re-evaluate his life choices.
I’m not anywhere near the same league as the Instagram perfect women he’s been with.
He grabs my hands with a snarl.
“Look down. Look down right now,” he tells me, and when I do, there’s a massive bulge in his pants. “If that doesn’t prove I’m into you, what will?”
“Another kiss, maybe. That might help,” I whisper.
“Where?” His grin is so wicked it’s lopsided.
Before I have time to breathe, he’s hooked his fingers down the waistband of my panties and he pulls them down in one long jerk.
Then I’m open, a willing slave to his tongue.
He licks me.
Oh my God, he licks me. Hypnotic, teasing circles, leaving me so delirious the rest of the world goes silent.
When he finds my clit, there’s nothing left to do but ride the storm.
So I close my eyes and arch my back, fisting my hands in the covers as his mouth takes me to the brink of insanity, sucking and licking until I’m completely gone.
When he stops, I almost faint.
With one hand, he slides a finger inside me.
Just one.
And it’s enough.
My walls convulse and that fireball in my core goes off.
“Patton!” His name grinds out in this torn whisper as he wrings every last drop of sin from my skin.
Even with the whole world spinning, I force my eyes open, watching as he pushes my legs over his shoulders and devours me completely.
Watching the vicious pride in his eyes as he makes me ride his face to the bitter end.
Watching with my legs still shaking and his finger raised as he holds it up and sucks.
“Fucking decadent,” he tells me, and then he’s kissing me again.
He makes me taste myself on his lips.
It’s frantic then, this feeling of falling, of not knowing where we’ll land, of desperately trying to find every inch of pleasure together before we do.
When I have my wits again, I rip off his pants just as fast as he disposed of my dress. He fists my hair as I grind against him until he growls and shoves my legs open.