Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
“Damn it!” I cry out.
He keeps climbing to the top floor and now I get a better look at the second floor, then on the third floor, the home office and gym. And I crane my neck as I’m looking over his shoulder, seeing what looks like an easel or no, a drafting table. It’s also got that fabulous lake view, too. I shake my head at my ridiculous train of thought – like it matters what his home office and gym looks like, what any of this looks like.
“Doggo! Yo! Let go of me. I’m telling you right now that if you don’t let me-” I don’t get to finish that sentence, because I’m dumped onto his bed on my stomach and then he’s pinning me, his torso pressed to my back. And then his mouth finds my neck. He wraps his lips around it and sucks, like he’s giving me a hickey.
And ohmigod – I gasp, sensation rolling from my neck straight down to my toes and then right back up to the roof of my mouth, which now tingles.
“That wasn’t nice, Amelia,” he rumbles against my neck. “But I can see this might need a slight adjustment period. I’m patient.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snap, “Get off!” I writhe and struggle, but he’s too heavy.
“Oh, I plan to,” he drawls. “We’ll both be getting off.”
His hand snakes around my hip and the fly of my jeans pops open. Oh shit.
His hand slides in and much to my mortification, his fingers slide straight in, because I’m that wet.
How could I not be? Not only is my neck super-sensitive, but also when he sucked on it I could swear it felt like he was sucking between my legs.
“What are you d-doing?” I demand. “Let go of me! I need to leave.”
“I’m getting us off,” he replies in a gravelly tone, and then he’s continuing to work at undressing me. “And you’re not going anywhere.”
“My God, are you always this infuriating?” I demand.
He chuckles. “As a matter of fact…”
I start to protest – I do – but then he’s making a vibrating, purring sound and before I know it, I guess I’m not protesting, because I’m down to just my bra and panties and his hand is sliding into the back of those panties, then two thick fingers are slipping into me.
My mouth opens as my brain wobbles or something. I stopped struggling as soon as he started making that noise. Again. That purring noise is evidently the key to the kingdom inside Amelia’s panties.
Just as I’m getting into it, he stops. And this jars me back to reality. And back to my anger. I’m being lifted up and carried into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I demand to cover up the disappointment that he stopped fingering me while sucking my neck and try to struggle my way out of his grip.
“We’re taking a shower and -”
“No. I’m leaving,” I snap. “This insanity has to stop right now.”
He finishes with, “Then I’m going down on you.”
My eyes bulge and I stop fighting.
His mouth splits into a very attractive smile as he sets me down on the vanity between the two raised bronze sinks. “Maybe you’ll go down on me, too.”
My eyes drop to his very large, very erect and like his forearms, his well-veined penis.
Mm.
“Stay put.” He kisses that sensitive spot on my neck, pulling a shiver from me, pointing at me as he backs away.
I watch him turn the dial on the massive walk-in shower and multiple panoramic showerheads twirl to life.
I am kinda sticky and messy from all the… excitement. I guess I could leave after the shower. After the oral sex.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and think… cheater.
As the self-loathing slithers through me, he tips my chin up.
“Hey?” His eyes are filled with concern.
“I have to go,” I choke out, being serious. Completely serious. “I really do have to go. I have to find my sister and then I’ve got to go home and…”
He shakes his head. “Your sister is okay, don’t worry about her. Let’s take a shower, then we’ll get some food and talk.”
“Sorry, but your word alone isn’t enough. And I’m tryin’ to be nice here, because all this isn’t your fault, but really – you have to –”
“Nice? Macing me and kneeing me in the nuts is nice?”
“You’re not leaving me much choice, there, Doggo. You kidnapped me.”
He laughs.
“It’s not actually funny. And I’m really worried about Ivy.”
He sobers. “I’ll see if I can make arrangements for you to speak to her.”
“Then you’ll let me go?” I try.
He cocks his head to one side and cockily says, “Then I’ll talk you into not trying to go. But she’s safe. She’s with her mate, so don’t worry about her.”
This makes me angry. Very. I throw my arms up in frustration.