Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“This reminds me of something,” I murmur, sliding it between my lips.
“Of what?” She swallows thickly, prompting me to run my fingers over her bottom lip. Her tongue darts out, licking the sticky juice. I take the opportunity to slide my fingers inside her hot, wet mouth.
“You tell me.” She doesn’t need the instruction, already swirling her tongue.
Selecting another piece, I slide the sticky flesh between her breasts, following it with my tongue.
“Are you going to eat it or torment me?” It doesn’t sound at all like a complaint.
“Eat it or eat you, should be the question.”
She releases a delicate moan as I glide the fruit around one of her nipples. “It’s so chilly,” she whimpers, her body an elegant arc at the contact.
“Not for long.” Bending my head, I suck her wet nipple into my mouth. I make a rough sound of appreciation as I draw on the tight bud, feeling it stiffen against my tongue. Soft swipes and wicked flicks, my actions are oh-so controlled until she’s panting, wordless beneath me.
“Tasty.” The word slides into a groan as I move to her other breast, repeating the process until her hands are in my hair and she’s convulsing under me, dry fucking my thigh.
“You eat it.” I bring what’s left of the wedge to her mouth, painting the juice across her lips, teasing her with it. “Do you want it?” She makes to bite as I move it back.
“Yes.” One hand lifts to capture my wrist. “I want it.”
“How much do you want it?” The mango falls, my voice husky as I take her mouth. She tastes like mango and looks like an invitation to ruin. But for which of us?
“I want it however you want to give it to me.”
“Good answer.” I bite back a grin. “Open wide, sweetheart.” I slide my fingers into her mouth, my cock aching as she sucks on them. Licks them clean.
A dark, captivating ache washes through me as I wrap my hand behind her, pushing the plates and containers away. Some slide the length of the table, some hit the floor. I don’t really pay attention as I don’t care; all I can think about is the woman in front of me. How I crave her. How I’ll take her right here and right now.
I can make her fears disappear.
Or make them worse, something dark whispers.
22
MIMI
“You’re smiling,” Whit’s low voice rumbles. His palm flat to the table, his other bands my back.
“Better than tears.” I feel his mouth curve against mine as his hands slide under me, lifting me to the tabletop.
“Different to tears,” he says on a sigh.
I tip my head back as his hot breath slides down my neck as though testing where his lips might like to land. But I’m not really smiling, and there are tears, the bittersweet kind that I’m blinking back. What have I done? Why couldn’t I have just said, thanks for the memories, but I think I might become a slut someplace else now.
Because I can’t resist him.
Because I don’t want to hurt him.
Because I’m not cut out to play these games, would be my guess.
His teeth grip the tendon between my shoulder and neck, his hand resting at the base of my throat to gently press me back. My palms fall to the tabletop behind me, his shirt sliding from one shoulder like a slattern. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, but he doesn’t speak or touch me except where his hands rest.
“You’re looking at me like I’m a bottle of wine you’re about to taste.”
His laughter is dark, hot, and velvet. “Hope springs eternal, my darling?”
My cheeks burn at how suggestive I’d sounded. “I didn’t mean…” My words trail off as his hand slides down my body, his palm pressing against my pussy.
“Fine wine, Amelia, should always be given time to breathe as a prelude to taste.”
His fiery gaze travels over me, lingering on my face. His appraisal feels like hot syrup sinking into all the secret places of me.
I am so in trouble.
Best make the most of it, a little voice says.
God, I love that little voice.
“Lift up.” He hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties before pulling them down my legs. “You are entirely too lovely,” he says as he slips his thumb inside and presses it to my clit. “And it’s a little too early for wine.”
Leaning closer, his lips stroke mine, his tongue skimming my bottom lip. He swallows my cry, my body bowing as I something ice cold and wet flows down my body.
“Oh, oh!” Champagne cascades down my chest, spilling over my hips and between my thighs. “What was—” Sensation rushes to the surface of my skin like a greeting as Whit licks at the rivulets with the flat of his tongue.