Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I was thinking about you when I did it,” I whispered.
He rubbed a hand over his mouth, but it did nothing to muffle his satisfied word. “Fuck.”
My dress was pooled around my feet, leaving me clad only in a pair of black panties with a band of lace stretching low across my hipbones. His gaze slowly moved southward, down over the slope of my bare breasts. It wasn’t warm in the room, and that, coupled with way he looked at me, made my nipples harden into points.
His steam-filled gaze languished, sinking lower over my nearly nude form until it found the delta of my legs. He liked what he saw so much, I wondered if I had exceeded his expectations.
This time his curse dripped with appreciation. “Fuck.”
It was getting harder to stand without excited trembling. Air to draw into my lungs suddenly seemed sparse and impossible to find. Was I going to die if he didn’t touch me? It felt like it.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said abruptly, his shoulders snapping back.
It felt like I’d missed a step going down a flight of stairs. “What?”
His expression was pained. “This could be torture.”
Yes, but . . . couldn’t he see it already was for me? I grabbed his hand and lifted, setting his warm palm on the center of my chest. “It’s all right. You’ve got this.”
Shit. I’d meant it as a joke, but my voice had faltered, and I’d placed his hand over my heart, like I was telling him he had me. I didn’t want him to read too much into it, or think I was already willing to—
Vance surged forward, crashing his lips into mine. Had the contact of our bodies given him courage to try . . . or had it broken his restraint? Either way, I didn’t care right now. His tongue was in my mouth and his palm moved to cup my breast, squeezing the globe of flesh like he needed to learn the weight of it.
I sighed into his urgent kiss and reveled in the way he banded an arm around my back to hold me in place. I’d put my hands inside his suit twice already tonight, but this time I had no motive other than to touch and explore.
He was . . . ravenous.
Shocks of pleasure spiderwebbed up my arms and back when he shifted, tearing his lips away, and bent to capture my nipple in his mouth. My hands balled into fists, and my eyes slammed shut under the power of him.
While I didn’t have overly sensitive breasts, I typically enjoyed it when my partner gave them some attention. It was possible I liked both the idea and the visual of what they were doing more than the physical sensation.
But this?
This was different. When Vance sucked and licked, swirling the tip of his tongue over my nipple, a bolt of white-hot pleasure coursed through me. I shivered and arched my back, jutting my chest out. And I threaded my fingers through his hair, needing to hold on as his mouth worked me over, roaming from one breast to the other.
He lavished attention on me with his tongue and his teeth and his fingers, making me go boneless and filling my head with steam. I wanted to melt to the floor with him, but instead he straightened and gave me an evaluating look. His hair was disheveled from my fingers and his eyes were wild, and dear God, did I want this wolf to devour me.
He must have had the same thought because instantly he charged forward, forcing me back to prevent myself from being run over by him. The backs of my legs hit the edge of the couch at the same time his hand clasped my shoulder and urged me down.
My heart was racing, and yet it couldn’t keep up with him. I’d barely hit the seat cushion before he fell to his knees between my parted legs with a loud thud. His fucking eyes. They stared at me with such intensity, it made me quiver.
And it was stunning how quickly he jerked down one side of his jacket, then the other, and hurled it to the floor. So determined to do what he wanted, he’d flung it away like he was angry it had slowed him down. He moved like he was out of time, or out of his mind . . .
Or possibly both.
It punched a gasp from my lungs when he seized my waist, yanked me right to the edge of the couch, and put a hand on my knee to shove my leg up. It was so he could drape it over the low armrest at our side, further opening my legs to him. He was a gentleman, but he wasn’t gentle, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to hold in my surprised and delighted laugh.