Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Dance with me.” My voice is hoarse. Alessia gasps as I tighten my hold on her and start to sway with her in my arms. She splays her hands on my chest and glides them over my shirt, feeling me. Touching me. Reassuring me. And curling her fingers around my upper arms as she moves with me.
Slowly.
We shuffle from side to side to the unhurried and seductive rhythm of the ethereal song. Her hands slide up my arms and over my shoulders and into my hair. She nuzzles my chest.
“I have never danced like this,” she murmurs.
My hand skims down her body to the base of her spine, holding her to me. “I’ve never danced with you.”
With my other hand, I gently tug on her plait, lifting her lips to mine. I kiss her. Long. Slow. Tasting her. Rediscovering her sweet mouth with my tongue while we sway together. I unfasten the elastic tethering her hair and slide it off. I groan as she shakes her head, and her hair falls wild and free down her back. Cradling her face, I kiss her again. I want more. So much more. I need to reclaim her. She’s with me. Not with some violent bastard from a godforsaken town a world away.
“Come to bed,” I whisper, my voice low.
“I have to wash the dishes.”
What?
“Fuck the dishes, baby.”
Her brow furrows. “But—”
“No, you don’t. Leave them.”
And the thought pops into my head. If I married her—she’d never have to do another dish again.
“Make love with me, Alessia.”
She sucks in a breath, and an inviting, shy smile curls her lips.
* * *
We flow together. My hands cocoon her head as I move, slowly savoring every delectable inch of her. She is soft and strong and beautiful beneath me. I kiss her, pouring my heart and soul into her mouth. It’s never felt like this. Each stroke is bringing me closer to her. Her legs hold me in place, and her hands run over my back. Her nails etching her passion on my skin. I lean up and study her dazed face. Her eyes are wide and her pupils the darkest, most carnal espresso. I want to see her. All of her. I stop and press my forehead against hers.
“I need to see you.” I ease out of her and roll us over so that she’s on top of me. She’s breathless and unsure. With my arm under her behind, I slide her up my body so her legs are on either side of my hips. And I sit up so she’s astride me, her arms on my shoulders. I clasp her face and kiss her. Moving my hand down to caress her breast, I deliberately tease her nipple between my thumb and finger as my lips skim from her mouth along her jaw to her throat. She tips her head back and lets out a husky moan of pure pleasure. My erection throbs in response.
Yes.
“Let’s try this,” I murmur against the fragrant skin of her shoulder. I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her, my eyes on hers as I lower her slowly onto me.
Fuck.
She’s tight. And wet. And exquisite.
Her mouth drops open as she gasps, her eyes large with want. “Ah,” she breathes, and my lips seize hers, my fingers in her hair as I claim her mouth again.
She’s panting and gripping my shoulders when I pull back.
“Okay?” I ask.
She gives me a frantic shake of her head. “Yes,” she breathes, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s reverted to the Albanian form of yes. I take her hands and lean back until I’m lying on the bed, staring at the woman astride me. The woman I love.
Her hair spills down over her shoulders and breasts in a riotous, sensual tumble. She leans forward and spreads her hands on my chest.
Yes. Touch me.
She sweeps her fingers and palms over my skin. Feeling me. Through my chest hair and over my nipples, which pucker in delight.
“Ah,” I breathe.
She bites her lower lip, stifling her wanton, victorious smile.
“That’s right, beautiful, I love your touch.”
I love you.
She leans down and kisses me. “I like touching you,” she says softly. Shyly. And my cock strains for more.
“Take me,” I murmur.
She pauses, not understanding, and I lift my hips to give her a clue. Alessia cries out, and it’s a loud, guttural sound of pleasure that almost pushes me over the edge. She splays her hands on my chest, trying to keep her balance. I grasp her hips. “Move. Like this,” I hiss through my teeth. I ease her up and back down. And she gasps, but, placing her hands on my arms, she rises up and back down.
“That’s it.” I close my eyes and enjoy the sensual feel of her.
“Ah,” she calls out.