Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I could kiss this man for hours. Just sink into his mouth, let him lead the way. Sparks and joy and desire rush through me, crackling down my spine as the kiss deepens, making my toes curl.
We start off strong, but we quickly grow messy, and aside from the stolen kiss the other week, it’s been a lot of avoiding each other, of pretending that we don’t want each other, need each other, and it’s coming to a head. Our lips turn from soft to violent, teeth clashing, a voracious beast inside me wanting to claw its way out.
I want him, I need him.
I love him.
My nightgown is pulled over my head as he hastily tugs off his pants, fully commando. He throws back the covers and then slides his knee between my legs, his fingers curling over the hem of my underwear, yanking them down over my legs quickly, like they’re on fire.
Every inch of my skin is alight, my breaths feel short and feverish, like I can’t get enough air and the air that I do get is burning away. I need to have him inside me, need his hands over every part of my body, to put out the flames or kindle them.
He makes quick work of me tonight, and for that I’m grateful. He positions himself and pushes into me with a long, hard thrust and I’m gasping again, the air expelled.
“Fuck,” I whisper, breath catching. My nails scratch down his back, feeling every inch of him, how warm he is too, and growing warmer by the second as he starts pumping inside me.
His mouth goes to my neck, rough stubble tickling me as he licks and sucks at my skin, every touch and sensation combining the feeling of him hot and hard inside me, making me feel dizzy and elated and alive.
I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. He’s been so good at eye contact, but not tonight, not when I want to see him.
There’s an awareness in his eyes now, mixing with the determination to get me off, to come. It’s like he’s seeing me, really seeing me, and I wonder if he knows now. If he knows I love him. I wonder if I don’t have to say a word.
He stares at me, a million emotions passing through his eyes, and I’m trying to grab hold and examine each and every one of them, like trying to pluck shooting stars out of the sky. Then he kisses me, the spell broken, groaning breathlessly into my neck as he moves so deep, in and out, hips pumping in expert circles.
I’m so close to coming as it is, but when he reaches between our hot, slick-with-sweat bodies and touches me, I know I don’t have a lot of time.
“Fuck, James,” I cry out, feeling it come for me, the way my limbs tighten, the pressure building to that sweet and scary point of no return. I just hope I keep my mouth shut.
“Oh god!” I dig my nails into his shoulders, holding on as every other part of me lets go, and then I’m just light and starshine and opening, opening, opening.
My back arches as the orgasm rips through me, my eyes looking up at him just as he starts to come.
The look on his face startles me.
The intensity turns from desire to pleasure to fear as he comes inside me, grunting loudly before his eyes pinch shut, his neck going back. He stiffens, thrusting harder and harder until he stops and shudders, his whole body shaking the bed. He lowers himself on top of me, his face in my neck.
And I know something has changed already.
I can feel it.
The air in the room has become electric, like before a storm.
He knows.
He fucking knows how I feel.
I didn’t have to say a word.
“James,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”
Please be okay. Please be okay with this.
He doesn’t say anything. I can hear him breathing heavily, feel his heart beating fast against mine.
“James,” I say again.
He finally lifts his head to look at me, and that look in his eyes is the bearer of bad news. My heart automatically drops.
I try to smile. “Are you okay?” I ask again.
But the fear in his expression doesn’t go away. I know that expression so well. I saw it in my head for far too long afterward.
His jaw shuts, the muscles tense, like he’s not letting himself say something. He swallows thickly, and then I see the worst look of all cloud his features.
Regret.
He pulls out of me and then gets off the bed, pulling his pajama pants back on. I pull the sheets up to cover myself and then I grab his wrist, holding him in place before he can walk away.
“What is it?” I eke out.