Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
His grin was positively feral. I knew right then that sweet, tender lovemaking was not in the cards for us. From then on, I’d be lucky if he let me leave my bed in the morning walking straight and sporting love bites I could cover with my clothes.
Releasing him, my hands splayed across his chest, keeping him where I wanted him. I tried to hold his gaze, licking my lips seductively as I ventured down. I wasn’t at his belly button before I flicked away, cheeks heating, and filling with nerves at what I was about to do. Baby steps.
Rocking back on my legs, I came face to face with my new challenge. My grand total of two sexual experiences didn’t include blow jobs. Lucien and Rafael were both completely focused on my pleasure, but I wasn’t the kind of girl who wanted to lie back and let their man do all the work. I wanted to make them feel as good as they made me.
If only I knew how, I thought, reddening as Cato’s smirk widened.
“Goes in your mouth,” he offered helpfully, earning a swat on the thigh.
“Thank you. I’m getting to that.” Taking a deep breath, I stared down my opponent.
They didn’t look so formidable when being strangled by my pussy. I was quite fond of them then. But having one bobbing against my gag reflex was a whole other story. Trying it out, I licked the tip, receiving another sharp hiss in return.
Emboldened, I went for it. My lips wrapped around his head and moved lower—swallowing as much of him as I could. Cato tangled in my hair, but he didn’t force or press. He also didn’t insist on eye contact, which would have undone me like a frayed shoelace.
Moving slow, I bobbed my head—mouth suctioning like I knew what the hell I was doing.
“Uhh.” Cato moaned low and deep, making me stupidly happy.
He didn’t say much outside of bed, and I didn’t expect that to change in bed either, but that didn’t stop me from understanding him.
He did not want me to stop.
Picking up the pace, I grasped his thighs—enjoying the feel of him hard and strong beneath my hands... and in my mouth. Soon, I forgot what I was nervous about.
I dipped as he jerked. Sucked as he moved. Moaned as he moaned. My room was filled with the sounds of two bodies in sync, and suddenly, I wanted him inside me more than anything.
Cato tugged on my hair, pulling me up with a pop. I no sooner recovered than his mouth was on mine—hungrily drawing from the last of my strength. Weak and fevered, I melted into him, holding tight to his shoulders.
I didn’t ask for what I wanted. I didn’t have to. I knew his mind without speaking. I trusted that Cato knew mine.
The walls spun.
Blinking, I gazed up at the ceiling. Then he was there. Shielding me. Crowding me. Molding his body to mine.
“Cato,” I rasped. “Please.”
My legs fell open, needing and inviting all of him. Cato settled between me—the two of us fitting like both sides of a zipper. I held my breath waiting for the final thrust that would seal the next stage of our relationship.
I couldn’t believe I ever thought of turning away my Rogues for revenge. Nothing would get in the way of making things right for Winter, but it was true. If I let the likes of Owen, Levi, Saylor, or the Phantom get in the way of what was happening between us, they would win and keep winning. Because they succeeded in destroying both of us. Winter may be gone, but they would succeed in neither.
“Luna.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his deep, earnest pools. Cato truly had the most gorgeous, soulful eyes I would ever see. The truth, it wasn’t the muzzles, the fires, or the growling that unsettled people about him. It was his eyes. One look, and he laid your soul bare.
“Yes?” I wrapped my legs around his waist. “It’s okay. I’m ready. I want this.”
“Your fiancé...”
The smile froze on my lips. “Look, I know things are weird with Victor, but right now, we’re not exclusive. You don’t have to worry—”
“Your fiancé,” he said, “is me.”
Cato pushed in with one hard thrust, catching my reply on my lips and tossing it back. There wasn’t a chance to speak as he set a deep, mind-scrambling pace, and I tried for all of five seconds.
I dug my heels in the mattress, rising up and driving him deeper still. Cato moved like a beast—controlled but powerful. The glow from my lamp bathed one side of his body in light, and left the other in shadows. For the rest of my life, I’d try to mentally capture the flawless perfection that was his raven hair; sharp cheekbones; smoldering, intense eyes; and the dips and peaks down his muscled chest. I’d try but my mental imaginings would always fall short.