Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
He shouts and throws his head back. Every muscle in his body strains through his release. Finally, he roughly yanks me down over him, hugging me to his chest, kissing the side of my head. He slides one hand down and pats my behind. “You’re so fucking good. So fucking good,” he repeats.
Glowing with pride that I’ve made him so happy, I kiss along his jaw and neck. His shoulder jerks and he laughs. “You’re tickling me again.”
Jigsaw
“I think I’m still coming,” she pants against my neck.
Too drained to speak, I grin from ear to ear.
“That was…that was so amazing.” She sits up and shakes her head, messy curls sliding over her shoulders. “No, amazing isn’t strong enough.”
She blinks at me in wonder, eyes sparkling. Cheeks and chest flushed and rosy from orgasm.
A possessive desire punches me in the chest. I’m the first one who did this to her. The only one. And I want it to stay that way. I want all of her orgasms to belong to me from now on.
“Come here,” I hold out my arm and she eagerly squirms close, resting her head on my chest. Blonde curls, soft as silk, slide over my skin. Something smoky and seductive—incense, maybe—tickles my nose.
The guy who told this woman she’s boring in bed needs a slap in the face—with a hammer. Or maybe I should thank him. Otherwise, by now, she probably would’ve been married to some boring twatwaffle who would never appreciate the explosive passion that simmers underneath Margot’s prim exterior.
Like I suspected, she responds best to gentle touches and slowly working her up to a frenzy. She really goes wild when I whisper all sorts of dirty things in her ear. And she absolutely thrives when I praise her, which I end up doing a lot because she’s so fucking good at everything.
“Is it always that…intense?” she whispers, tracing a restless pattern over my chest.
I capture her hand and bring her fingers to her mouth, kissing each one. “No, it’s not,” I answer honestly.
The irony of her blowing my mind when she’s the one who asked me to help her improve her sex game isn’t lost on me.
Plenty of women have told me I’m good at getting them off, but something’s different with Margot. Like she was made for me to unlock and discover. And she’s uncovered something different in me.
Even if we’re not fucking like the fate of the world depends on our orgasms, I enjoy being with her. Her oddball humor mirrors my own. Even the silence is nice. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill every blank space with meaningless chatter.
“Are you staying?” she asks, with the most hesitant tremor in her voice.
“Yeah.” I stroke my hand over her arm.
She snuggles close. Her breasts are pressed against my side, leg thrown over mine. Instead of panic, I feel peace.
I have no business getting used to this. Our arrangement’s temporary. Fuck, I should give her a final report card now—A-plus straight down the line—before I do something dumb like get attached to her, or worse, fall in love with her. Since I’m fairly certain I’m not capable of love, it’s the attachment thing that keeps me from falling asleep.
I like the weight of her soft little body next to me way too much. Her slow breaths, the rise and fall of her chest, the way she purses her lips in her sleep.
Cuddling—when I’m the one who warned her not to catch feelings—seems like a bad idea. But I can’t exactly grab my jeans and hit the road. Well, I could. I can do any fucking thing I want.
And for the rest of the night, I want to hold Margot in my arms and smell her hair, apparently.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Margot
I’m not sure how much later it is when I wake again. My room’s darker.
Jigsaw’s still holding me. I lift my head and find him watching me.
“Did you sleep?”
“Can’t.”
“Why?” I roll away from him. “Is your arm numb from holding me? You should’ve just told me to move.”
He stretches and flexes his arm. “But I like holding you.”
“I like being held by you.” My cheeks warm and I have to look away.
“Hey.” He rolls closer and grips my chin, turning me to face him. “Are you okay? Hurt anywhere? That was a lot…if it had been a while…” His voice trails off, but his serious eyes never leave my face.
I close my eyes for a second, checking in with my body. “No, I feel spectacular.”
Relieved, he blows out a breath and pulls me closer, draping his arm over my waist.
“Can I ask you something without you making fun of me?” I drag my fingers over his shoulder and down the arm resting on my body. “It’s a bit strange.”
“I love strange.” He props his head up on his hand and waits. “Hit me.”