Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I, ah, I think I need to rent out that bed on occasion,” I told him, shuffling my feet a bit at the intensity of his gaze.
He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “Anytime you want to be in it, it’s all yours,” he told me, making me try really hard not to read into it.
But I was reading into it.
Wishing into it.
Then, as if reading those very thoughts, he exhaled hard.
“Fuck it,” he said.
Then he was stalking over to me, grabbing my face, and pulling me in for a kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Savannah
There was no hesitation on my part.
I sank into it.
Into the kiss.
Into him.
My hands drifted up his strong forearms, then his shoulders, to wrap around the back of his neck, pressing our bodies close, my breasts crushing to his wide chest.
His hands left my jaw, one sliding back to slip into my hair, turning, and tugging slightly, angling my head back further. The other moved down my side to slide across my back, cupping my ass, and dragging me closer still by it.
His hard cock pressed against my belly as the same sort of desperate need bloomed through my system once again. Stronger than before, making me try to press my thighs together to ease the ache.
As if sensing the movement, Nino turned, backing me up until I hit the counter, then letting his lips break from mine just long enough to bend down, grab me under the knees, and yank me up until my butt planted on the countertop.
There was hardly a pause before his lips were on mine again.
Harder.
Hungrier.
I responded in turn, lips pressing, teeth nipping, tongue toying.
His lips broke from mine on an impatient growl, going down to my neck as his curious hands began to explore, sliding down my back, then up my sides, sliding across my chest to cup my breasts through my thin shirt.
I’d never been more thankful for my mother’s steadfast insistence that bras were completely unnecessary as I was then, feeling the strength of his big fingers squeezing me with just the thinnest of barriers between us. I could feel the heat of his palms against my hardening nipples.
On a low groan, his hands shifted, his fingers finding my nipples, then doing delicious little rolls, working them into almost painful points.
Then his hands were going down, gathering up the material of my shirt, and pulling, forcing my arms up over my head, so he could free me from it, then tossing it to the ground.
When his hands were on me again, there was no barrier to the sensations. I felt the calluses on his fingers, the heat of his skin.
He explored the roundness of my breasts, then started to roll my nipples once again, before he was bending down, and sucking one into his mouth, making a loud moan escape me as my hand slapped down on the back of his neck, holding him to me as he sucked, licked, and nipped for what felt like a perfect eternity before going across my chest to continue the sweet torment.
Then he was shifting back up, sealing his lips to mine as I felt his hands start to tease down my legs, then up into my skirt, gliding over my calves, knees, then inner thighs before one hand was pressing the material between my thighs.
His lips swallowed my moan as my body shuddered at the sensation, little waves of pleasure coursing through me, gliding over me.
A little growl escaped him, reverberating into me, as his hand shifted, sliding under my panties.
“So wet for me,” he murmured with his lips pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth as his fingers traced up my cleft, finding my clit, and starting to work it.
It didn’t take much.
I’d been aching for him for so long already, fantasizing about his hands on me once again. I was already almost at the edge before he even touched me.
So he pushed me toward it, then sent me flying over it with only a few soft circles, leaving me crying out, my hands grabbing his arms as I pressed my forehead into his chest, breathing in his scent as the waves crashed through me.
“Again,” he murmured as his fingers slipped down, pressing inside of me.
“No,” I objected, voice thick and sleepy with the aftermath of the orgasm.
“No?” he asked, body stiffening, fingers stilling inside of me.
“No, I need you inside of me,” I clarified, my own hands sliding to the center of his chest, working his buttons free one by one, exposing a strong chest and those delicious little abdominal muscles that twitched under my touch.
My hands kept moving, kept exploring.
My palm flattened, sliding over his hard length through his slacks, making a rumbling sound move through him. Then my fingers moved up, working his belt free, then his button and zipper, before reaching inside to close my hand around the hot, hard length of him.