Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“What did you do to warrant a wax strip on the leg?”
“Why do you automatically assume I did something wrong?”
She gives me a look.
I debate how honest I should be and decide Winter doesn’t need another bullshitter in her life. “I might have hooked up with one of her sorority sisters sophomore year. In my defense, I didn’t know she was a sorority sister until afterward. I think the hookup part was less the problem, and more that her sorority sister felt the need to constantly share unnecessary details with Lovey—stuff she couldn’t unknow.”
“Ah. Well, that makes sense. You definitely deserved a wax strip for that.”
“Yeah. I’d like to say I took it like a man, but I screamed and swore a lot.”
Winter grins. “Hence your aversion to duct tape.”
“I’d be open to silk scarves—much softer and far less likely to leave marks or take off hair.”
“Yeah, because I have an abundance of those hanging around in my mostly athletic-wear wardrobe.”
“A neck tie would work equally as well, and I have plenty of those.”
Winter smirks. “Your hands are far too talented to restrain.”
“Lots of other uses for a silk tie besides restraining, though.” Winter has had enough of feeling powerless to last a lifetime. I can’t see her ever wanting to be tied up.
“Such as?”
“A little sensory deprivation can heighten the experience.”
“Like a blindfold?” Her eyebrows pop, and her voice drops to a whisper as her fingers drift along her cheek. “You or me?”
“Either. Both. Neither.” I slide closer and move her empty plate to the coffee table, patting my thighs. “Come here. I have an idea.”
She shifts to straddle me. “What kind of idea?”
“Close your eyes for me, please,” I murmur.
Her eyes flutter shut, her hands resting on her bare thighs, lips slightly parted.
I take her hand and kiss each fingertip, then her palm, before I slowly make my way along her wrist and up her forearm until I reach the bend, my eyes on her face the entire time. She whimpers softly when I stop, and her eyes flutter open.
I gently close her eyelids and drag my fingers down her cheeks. “Keep them closed and focus on how you feel.”
“I feel like you’re doing a lot of teasing.”
I set her palm on my shoulder and pick up her other hand, grinning as my lips brush across her fingertips. “That’s because I am.”
She laughs and then sighs as I kiss a path from the inside of her wrist to the crook of her elbow. The fingers of my free hand skim along her thigh until I reach the hem of her T-shirt. “Should I take this off and keep going?”
“Yes, please.”
“Can you raise your arms for me?”
She lifts them above her head, and I remove her shirt. Her breasts are at eye level, but I don’t go for a nipple. Instead, I press my lips to the center of her collarbones. Then I work my way from one side to the other, her nipples brushing against the fabric of my T-shirt. “How does this feel, Snowflake?”
“Good. Nice. Like it’s not enough.”
I nip at the skin above the swell of her right breast. “Good. It’s not supposed to be enough.” I skim her ribs and follow the waistband of her panties with a single finger until I reach her navel. “Should we go back to bed?” I kiss a path to her neck. “I want to touch every inch of you, put my mouth where you ache the most.” I circle a nipple with my finger, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “I could start here.”
“Fuck, yes. Please.” Her eyes pop open, and she slides off my lap.
Before she can make a beeline for the bed, I catch her hand and pull her close. I wrap an arm around her waist and cup her cheek in my palm. Her eyes fall closed again, lips parted in anticipation. I drop my mouth to hers, and she moans when our tongues tangle. Her hands slide into my hair, gripping at the crown, angling my head so she can deepen the kiss. We’re both breathless when she finally breaks away.
“You could get a tie,” she whispers.
“Why don’t you help me pick one out?” I lace our fingers and tug her toward my closet.
It’s a small walk-in, like all the closets in this house. Hanging on the back of the door is a tie rack with a half a dozen options. Winter brushes her fingers over the soft fabrics and chooses a black satin one.
When we reach the bed, she tosses the tie on the rumpled sheets and hooks her thumbs into her panties. I cover her hands with mine. “Why don’t we keep these on for a little while longer?”
She tips her head. “You’re really going to drag this one out, aren’t you?”