Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
He laughs, and I think I might slap him. Italian shit? The man is an ignorant arse. Italian shit?
‘You shouldn’t have brought the place if you don’t like the shit that’s in it.’ I fire at him, completely outraged.
‘I can get rid of the shit.’ he quips.
My eyebrows shoot up in a, you-didn’t-just-say-that expression. I’ve spent months breaking my back sourcing all of this Italian shit and this unappreciative swine is just going to get rid? I’ve never been so insulted, or pissed off. I try to wriggle my hands from under his, but he tightens his grip. I shoot him a scowl.
He grins. ‘Unravel your knickers, lady. I wouldn’t get rid of anything in this apartment,’ He kisses me hard. ‘And you’re in this apartment.’ He’s taking my mouth again, possessively, greedily.
I won’t read into that statement too much. My libido has just jumped to attention and I’m happy to comply. I attack him with equal force, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, circling his with mine as he lifts his grip from my hands. They impulsively fly to those taut, rippling shoulders that I love so much.
Wrapping his arm around my middle, he releases my lips and lifts me up from the counter, leaving me hovering above the surface as his other hand finds my knickers and yanks them down my legs. He rests me back down, removing my shoes and letting them tumble to the tiled floor on a loud clatter. I join him in his stripping party, reaching up and pushing his shirt down his broad shoulders, revealing his bare chest in all of its glory. He’s cut to complete perfection. I want to lick every square inch of him.
As I trace my eyes down, I recoil slightly at a nasty scar that’s running across his stomach and rounding onto his left hip. I never noticed it before. The light at The Manor was dim, but that is one hefty scar. It’s slightly faded but bloody big. How did he get that? I elect to not enquire. It could be a sensitive issue, and I don’t want anything to upset this moment. I could just sit here and gawp at him forever, even with the scar that looks so sinister, he’s still beautiful.
I scrunch his shirt up between my hands and chuck it on top of my dress. He raises his eyebrows at me.
‘I’ll buy you a new one.’ I shrug.
He smirks and leans forward, bracing himself on the counter and capturing my lips – all brooding and careful. I reach for his trousers and begin unfastening his belt, whipping it out of his loop holes in one swift pull, instigating a snapping sound to erupt around us.
He pulls back on an arched brow. ‘Are you going to whip me?’
Huh? ‘No,’ I answer uncertainly. Does he like that sort of stuff? I throw his belt to join the pile on the floor and slide my hand between his tight narrow hips and the waistband of his trousers. I wrench him forward so we’re nose to nose. ‘Of course, if you want me to…’ Did I just say that?
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ he says on a half-smile. Obviously, I did. What’s got into me?
Keeping my eyes firmly on his, I start to undo the button on his trousers, my knuckles brushing over his solid erection, causing him to jerk. He squeezes his eyes shut. I slowly undo his fly, sliding my flat hand into his boxers, grazing across the mass of dark blonde hair. He shudders, looking up to the ceiling. The muscles on his chest are rolling and undulating, and I can’t resist leaning forward and flicking my tongue up the centre of his chest bone.
‘Ava, you should know that once I’ve had you, you’re mine.’
I’m too drunk on lust to take any notice of that statement. ‘Hmmm.’ I mumble against his skin, circling his nipple with my tongue and withdrawing my hand from his boxers. I grasp the waist band and ease them down over his tidy, narrow hips. His cock springs free.
My God, it’s huge! The head is swollen, moist and pointing right at me. The involuntary gasp that escapes my mouth is an indication of my shock. Flicking my eyes to his, I find a small smile tickling the corner of his mouth, which is all the mortifying evidence I need to tell me that he’s picked up on my reaction.
He steps back, kicking his shoes and socks off before removing his trousers and boxers. I’m instantly drawn to his powerfully lean thighs. I’m dribbling at the magnificence stood before me in all of its naked glory. I can’t help it.
Gathering some of my shattered confidence, I reach forward slowly, and gently circle my thumb over his tip, watching him as he watches my hand explore him. When I tentatively wrap my hand around the base, I see him struggle with the contact.