Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Was this what kissing was supposed to feel like?
Powerful? Ravenous? Euphoric?
Was this what being wicked was all about?
Was this why people threw caution to the wind?
My body began to pulsate from his hold on me as his hands kept exploring my body. My hips, my thighs, my curves… His mouth traveled down to my neck as his left hand unbuckled the belt on my jeans.
He growled against my skin as he tasted me, making me arch my neck to the side to trail his tongue down to my collarbone, which he did, tasting every piece of me.
Once the belt was removed, he unbuckled the jeans and slid them down. I stepped out of them quickly after kicking my shoes to the side of the room.
He paused, placed a finger beneath my chin, and tilted my head to lock my stare with his. There he was again, piercing into my soul and reading the newly crafted pages dipped in the ink of trouble and written cursively in sin.
Everything slowed.
My breath caught as he reviewed me.
He was so intense without even trying to be.
His eyes searched mine deliberately as if he were looking for something, searching for an answer within my browns.
“Okay?” he whispered, grazing his mouth against mine.
My heartbeats intensified as realization set in.
He wasn’t taking from me; he was honoring me. He wasn’t only hoping to please himself, but he was asking permission. For some reason, that only turned me on more.
“Okay,” I breathed out.
With that, his lips locked with mine one more time. His kisses made me high. My brain was fuzzy, and my heart thrilled. I liked how he felt against me. I loved it, in all honesty. He felt like heaven intermixing with hell, like a fallen angel who could still somehow soar.
When his lips finished against mine, he pulled up the edges of my tank top and tossed it to the side of the room. His hands cupped my bra, and his mouth lowered to trail kisses along the curves of my breasts. Then he lowered himself more and more, his mouth tasting every piece of me as he inched closer and closer to my panty line.
“It’s my birthday,” I choked out. I didn’t know why the words left my mouth. Or why my mind was trying to move to the forefront and push my desires to the side.
Those brownish-green eyes found my stare again. He tilted his head in confusion, waiting for me to provide more details.
I cleared my throat. “My boyfriend cheated on me today. On my birthday.”
“That dick,” he growled, almost in a protective manner.
I snickered. “I thought that was your name.”
“Trust me, it is.” He thumbed his finger against the thin fabric of my panties and kept his eyes locked on mine. He slid them down my thighs and allowed me to remove them. Then his hands fell to my hips, and he lifted me.
“Wait!” I shook my head. For a split second, I became too self-conscious. I wasn’t ashamed of my curves, not in the least. Yet I worried I might not have been featherlight like some other women he was used to hooking up with. “You’re going to hurt your back. I’m a little curvier than the average co-ed. You can’t lift me like—”
“I see you,” he said, his hands roaming around my curves, against my skin, against my stomach. “I want you,” he whispered, his mouth kissing the parts of me that John avoided. He massaged my skin before he wrapped his hands below my buttocks, lifted me into his arms without effort, and carried me to the bed. I was almost certain that was when the first orgasm of the night took place.
“You’re mine tonight,” he swore, his voice low and dripping with want and need. “Now, grab the headboard,” he instructed, positioning me on top of him. “And let me feast.”
The overthinking part of my mind shut off when he lifted my two-hundred-plus body into the air and sat me on his chest. He grabbed my waist and raised me onto his face as I lost sight of reality. His tongue slid in and out of my core, forcing me to cry out in pleasure. My hips rocked against his mouth, against his beard that was now dripping with my essence.
My hands gripped the headboard, and he fed on me as if I were his last supper, lapping his tongue against my clit, sucking it, swallowing every drop of me. He drank me as if lost in the desert, and I was the first to quench his thirst. I felt how he craved me as much as I did him.
“I’m going to…I’m…” I breathlessly whimpered as the sensation of an orgasm increased with every passing second. My nails dug into the headboard as he buried himself in me.