Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I’d been kissed plenty of times. Link had shoved his tongue down my throat more times than I could count. But I’d never been truly, deeply, passionately kissed until Sebastian’s lips had met mine that very first time. Every stroke from his tongue, each nip from his teeth—it all coalesced into the most potent drug, and I became powerless to resist.
I could blow the deal, resist him and tell him it needed to stop. Because it did. Because I was losing myself in the passion of his kiss and the feel of his hands on me. He’d asked me to pretend. And I had. But at that moment, I wasn’t pretending. I didn’t have to. I wrapped my arms around him and ran one hand through his hair. I couldn’t even lie to myself and say I did it because I had to. I did it because I wanted to feel him, and because it felt better than anything I’d ever experienced. I was lost, spinning in the dark.
When he groaned into my mouth, a shock of delicious arousal skittered down my body and twisted between my legs. I bit his bottom lip. He answered by sliding his thigh between mine, his cock resting against my hip. So hard.
I pulled away. “That’s not part of the deal.”
“I believe it is. If you recall.” He yanked my hair, the slight sting adding to the raucous flood of arousal that pulsed through me. “You said that my hands couldn’t touch you below the belt. I’m not using my hands.” He darted his tongue along my lips and rubbed his thigh against my wet pussy. “So fucking wet.” He flipped me, then settled on top of me, his cock against my thigh as his lips found mine again.
I dug my nails into his back as he rested one palm at my throat and continued taking my breath away with his wicked tongue. He stole the protest from my lips and continued rubbing his thigh against me. When he slid against my clit just right, I moaned, unable to keep it locked inside anymore.
“Tell me I can taste you again.” He dropped kisses along my jawline.
“Not part of the deal.”
“Fuck the deal,” he growled and claimed my mouth again.
We kissed until his mouth became my only reference, the only thing I wanted.
He pulled away and stared into my eyes. “Tell me I can taste you again.” The demand in his voice spoke to the darkest part of me. I moved my hips against him, grinding on his leg and wishing his cock was deep inside me.
His grip tightened on my hair. “Tell me.”
“No.”
He roared and dove back to my lips, his drugging kiss sending me even higher as I shamelessly rubbed my pussy on him.
I ran my hands down to his ass and dug my nails into the muscle.
His guttural roar passed my lips. “Let me.” His wild eyes met mine, and I wanted to give in, to break and let him have what he wanted, and more. All of me.
But the weight of the chain on my ankle wouldn’t let me. The invisible shackles on my wrist told me it couldn’t happen. None of this was real. Tears pricked at my eyes, and the fire inside me flickered and died.
“No.”
His brow wrinkled and he kissed me again, then stopped when I didn’t kiss back. “Why?” He released the grip on my hair and ran his hand along my cheek, all softness, though desire still lit his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“Yes.” A tear escaped and he swiped it away as he moved off me and pulled me into his chest.
“Where?” Genuine concern colored his question.
The tears came in a torrent. “Everywhere.”
“Shhh.” He hugged me close as I cried.
“You stole everything from me.” I sobbed, but instead of fighting him, I clutched him tighter. “Everything.”
He didn’t respond, just stroked my hair and held me as I fell apart. I cried until my ribs ached and my tears streaked onto his chest.
When I quieted, he smoothed the hair from my face and kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
I withdrew and wrapped my arms around myself. “No you aren’t. If you were sorry, you’d let me go.”
“I can’t.” He sighed.
“You’re afraid I’ll tell?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t think I can live without you.”
The words would have warmed me if they’d come from anyone else. From him, they were cold prison bars.
“Why?” I sniffled.
“I don’t know.” He pulled the sheet up and tucked it around me. “Ever since that dance, you’ve been embedded deep inside me, in places I didn’t even know existed. I didn’t know what to do about it at first, but then it hit me. I needed you.”
I pressed my forehead to his pec. “You know what most people do when they develop a crush?”
“It’s not a crush.”