Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
And then to my fucking surprise, she's the one who lunges forwards and kisses me.
17
MILA
I fall back with a laugh, smiling up at him and enjoying the way his rich hazel eyes flare with arousal. “Was that enough of a reminder?”
The sexy smile that curls his lips tells me I can only push my flirting so far before he pounces. “I’m not sure.” He leans closer. “It was a little quick. Maybe you need to show me again..”
My palm is still against his chest. Despite his easy going attitude, I can feel the coiled tension in his body. He’s holding himself in check, letting me play. His hips shift, spreading my thighs and lining the solid length of his cock right up the center of me. We’re still fully dressed, but being in this position is pressing a lot of instinctive buttons. I can feel myself pulling towards him on a deeper than physical level.
“I don’t mind helping you practice. If you want.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it's just us here. He hears me just fine.
“Oh, I really fucking want, baby.” He presses his lips against mine.
They're hot and softer than I expect, even when he kisses me hard. He cups my throat and chin with his big hand, holding me in place as he urges my lips apart and slips his tongue inside. I kiss him back the best I can as his powerful weight presses me into the couch. His control snaps, and a rough, needy growl rumbles in his chest. Scrapper uses his free hand to pull up my shirt. I do the same from below, gripping his T-shirt with both hands. We break apart to throw them aside. He straddles me and looks down like a king surveying his land.
His torso is cabled with muscle. A dusting of chest hair covers his powerful pecs and trails down over his six pack stomach, disappearing into his jeans. Plain black tattoo bands circle his biceps. The studs through his nipples are begging me to play with them. When it was the three of us, it didn’t really give me time to explore any of them as much as I wanted. This is my chance. I reach up and flick one with my finger. He hisses.
I pull back fast. “Did I hurt you?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, babe. They're just sensitive when you play with them, at least when you've got me hot.”
“So if I do this, that's okay?” I flick both of them, one with each hand.
I love the hiss of his sharp, indrawn breath. “Long as you don't mind me doing this.”
I'm still wearing a bra, but it's a thin, sexy one I put on for them earlier, and he finds my nipples easily enough through it, giving them a little twist. Pleasure shoots through me, sparking over my skin and down to my clit. It's my turn to hiss with pleasure.
“I guess I don’t mind,” I whisper, almost in a moan. I explore his chest, luxuriating in his smooth skin, the tickle of his soft chest hair, the pure power of his muscles underneath.
He kisses me again, while he keeps playing with my nipples. I moan into his mouth and arch my back, pressing my breasts into his hands. His fingers are rough and callused, like I'd expect from a man who lives hard and works hard. It feels different, better. The little bit of extra texture has me grinding my hips up into the hardness of his covered erection. He explores me with those hard working fingers, and everywhere he touches leaves a hot trace of need. I don’t even notice him undoing my bra until it goes slack.
“Aw, fuck…” he says with a tone that borders on reverence as my breasts are revealed. I never thought that lying on my back presented them in their best light, but the way he's acting they're the most amazing pair he's seen in his life. “You're so fucking pretty, babe. So fucking perfect.”
I swallow hard. I'm not used to getting hit point blank with compliments like that, and especially after the fire, I've been feeling raw and a little broken. “I—”
“You're blushing,” he says with a grin and starts opening the fly on my jeans. “I wanna see if it goes all the way down.”
I lift my hips, and he has them off in record time, taking my panties at the same time. I shouldn’t be doing this out in the living room when anyone could walk in, but I can’t bring myself to stop it either. He slides his hands from my ankles right up towards the insides of my thighs, and for the first time, the fact that he can see and feel my scar only distracts me for a second.