Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“You can’t do this to me.”
“Do what?”
“Touch me. Pretend you care.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. I do.” My hands start to lower, trailing down her neck to the hollow of her chest. I follow the line of her dress, dipping low between her breasts. She shivers at the touch.
“You didn’t try to see me.”
“I did.”
She shakes her head in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything as my fingers press against her heart.
“This right here is mine. It beats for me. Only for me.”
Her breath catches at my words. She shakes her head and rights herself. “I’m not yours. You made that clear.”
“I tried to see you, dove.”
Her eyes are darker than normal, hollow, lacking the usual spark. “Then why didn’t you?”
I lean forward and swipe my tongue against the shell of her ear. “Ask your father.”
“I don’t think so, Prince.” Her hand lifts to push me away, but I grab her wrist, encasing her delicate skin in my fingers. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”
“And now I’m Prince?” I ask, her chest heaving angrily at my words.
“Well, you’re certainly not a king …”
“Oh, so we are back to that again? Do you need me to remind you who you belong to?”
“Funny, and here I thought I belonged to no one.”
“That’s where you were wrong, dove.” I step back, and then with no warning, lift her under her arms and place her on the table, her dress bunching at her hips.
Once she’s where I want her, I rest my hands on her thighs.
I move in, sealing my mouth to hers. I wait for her to push me—and she does put her hands to my chest, but when I sweep my tongue against the seam of her lips, she doesn’t. Instead, she opens on a sigh, and being the asshole that I am, I kiss her deeper. Taking full advantage of her, needy and pliant, I let my hands explore her, lifting her dress, touching the scrap of underwear covering her.
My finger strokes the fabric. “I’ve missed this.” With more pressure, I keep up my ministrations until she starts to writhe beneath my touch.
“I want to be inside you.” I groan against her lips. “Do you want me? Do you miss this?”
“Yes,” she pants as I rip her thong off her body.
“Tell me I can fuck you.”
“You can fuck me.” She starts to shake, and I know she’s close. With my free hand, I move to unzip my pants, and then once I’m free, I place myself at her entrance.
I give her one more second to object, but when she wiggles her ass on the table and pushes herself forward, I’m lost. With one quick thrust, I’m inside.
Being inside Phoenix is like coming home.
At first, my movements are slow and leisurely. We haven’t been together for a month.
I allow her to adjust to me, but once I feel her relax around me, I start to move, pulling out and then thrusting back in.
My movements are still slow. A torture we both need after our separation. Slowly, I drag my cock out and then let it hover at her entrance before sliding back in.
I pull out again and then push back in.
My hips circle and thrust as my hand reaches between us.
In. Out. In. Out.
The slower I go, the more she moves her hips, begging me without words to pick up the pace and give her what she needs.
But I can’t.
I can’t take her fast. I need to savor every minute with her.
As if she knows I’m teasing her, she tilts her hips up and pushes me in deeper.
“Faster,” she begs.
I swivel my hips again but don’t pick up the pace. Instead, I look down to where our bodies are connected, and now I watch us.
There is nothing better than watching me fuck her, watching her small body take me, watching as she lets me own her. Mind, body, and soul.
I pick up my pace, needing more, needing to see more. My thrusts become harder and deeper. As she begins to tighten around me, her breath coming in short bursts, I know I won’t be able to hold on much longer. Brutally intensifying my pace, I fuck her hard enough to imprint me in her soul.
I hope it does.
But as we both come down from our highs, and her blue eyes look up at me—first with lust, then with confusion, and then with anger—I know she’s the one letting me go.
I thought I’d be okay, seeing her and saying goodbye, but the longer I stare, the more I know I’ll never be done with her.
She seems frazzled as she starts to rearrange her dress.
“Get off me,” she says, and her hands reach for my shirt to push me off her.
“Stop.” I level her with my stare. “We need to talk. Are you sick?”
Phoenix pushes again, and I step away even though separating our bodies is not something I want to do yet. I’m not ready for her to walk away.