Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
And when her palms lift and smooth down my cheeks, I’m powerless to stop myself from turning into it, kissing it tenderly before letting my eyes find her again. Understanding. Acceptance. Possibly even adoration. It’s all staring back at me, and I ask myself again . . . do I deserve her? This bright, beautiful young woman. A woman who could have any man she could dream of. Could that man be me?
I hate the tug of my heart. Hate it.
She gasps, and it throws me for a moment until I realize someone is trying to get into my bathroom. Oh no. I’m far from done. I slap my palm over her mouth and smile at her shock.
“I can’t hear anything,” someone says, and Ava’s eyes widen farther. They’re not interrupting this. Ava is not stopping this. Make her forget there’s someone outside. So I release her mouth and replace my palm with my lips, hushing her quietly.
“Oh God, I feel cheap,” she cries, her forehead falling to my shoulder.
Cheap? She’s the furthest you could get from cheap. “You’re not cheap. Talk crap like that, I’ll be forced to kick your delicious backside all over my bathroom.” I immediately realize my error. Fuck, did I just say that?
“Your bathroom?”
Her puzzled face makes me smile. It’s time to confess. At least, confess one small detail. “Yes, my bathroom. I wish they would stop letting strangers roam around my home.”
“You live here?”
“Well, I will as of tomorrow. Tell me, is all this Italian shit worth the outrageously expensive price tag they attached to this place?” I love the Italian shit she’s loaded it with. I hope she loads The Manor with it too.
“Italian shit?” she coughs, and I can’t help laughing at her shock. “You shouldn’t have bought the place if you don’t like the shit that’s in it.”
“I can get rid of the shit.”
Her eyebrows lift, but soon lower into a scowl.
“Unravel your knickers, lady,” I say. “I wouldn’t get rid of anything in this apartment.” I land her with a forceful kiss. “And you’re in this apartment.”
She’s mine again, meeting my hard tongue lashes stroke for stroke, her hands shooting to my shoulders and clinging harshly. And she didn’t contest my claim, instead eating me alive, her mouth working fast and hard. I can’t wait any longer. I’ve never needed anything so much in my life. And now I know beyond all doubt that she wants me too.
Game over.
Lifting her from the counter, I yank her knickers down her legs, my gentle approach fast disappearing. I cast them aside and ease her back down, making quick work of removing her shoes and mentally thanking her for taking the initiative to start on my clothes. Her awestruck face doesn’t escape my notice, and neither does her flinch when she spots my scar. Fuck. I don’t need her prying into the whys and wherefores of that. She’s just staring at it, but, thankfully before I’m forced to distract her from it, she rips her eyes away, curious eyes, and screws my shirt up, tossing it to the side.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” she says casually, making me smirk.
Relief washes over me, but I know there are things she’s going to have to know. Eventually. But now?
Leaning forward, I home in on her lips again and moan when I feel her hands working my trousers, but soon pull away on a surprised furrow of my brow when she yanks my belt free and the bathroom is filled with a sharp thrash of leather.
I’m trying to hide the shock. “Are you going to whip me?”
“No,” she replies slowly, before discarding the belt, her uncertainty reassuring. But then I’m seized by the waistband of my trousers and hauled forward. “Of course, if you want me to . . .”
I fight a smile. She’s playing with me. God, she has no fucking idea. “I’ll bear that in mind.” Never.
Her eyes burn as she unfastens me and mine clench shut when I feel her small palm skim across my throbbing cock. Oh sweet Jesus, I’m twitching uncontrollably, sending a silent prayer to the ceiling to maintain my control, struggling further when I feel the unmistakable heat of her tongue licking up the center of my chest.
“Ava, you should know that once I’ve had you,” I murmur drowsily, “you’re mine.”
“Hmm,” she hums, licking my nipple and pushing my boxers down my thighs, finally freeing my painfully stiff cock.
She gasps, but I waste no time removing my remaining clothes, as equally rapt by the nakedness before me as she is. I didn’t think my pulse could race any faster . . . until she reaches forward and rolls her thumb over the head of my dick.
“Shit, Ava.” I take her hips to steady myself, and she gasps. “Ticklish?”
“Just there,” she blurts, tensing in my hold.