Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
When his strong hands finally closed around her breasts, Natalie’s neck lost power, her head tipping back on a breathy moan. In one swift movement, his ropy forearm wrapped around the small of her back and he knelt on the mattress, dropping her down beneath him. Her yoga pants were around her knees. Never taking his eyes off her, he pulled her pants and underwear down the remaining distance, letting them slap wetly onto the floor. They joined the rag that used to be her shirt as he licked her nipples. Just once each and she was shaking.
“Have I told you lately that your tits are insane?” he murmured into the valley between the two mounds, his thumbs brushing circles around the puckered peaks.
“On our wedding day.”
He lifted his head, grinning. “Took away the nerves, didn’t it?”
Don’t smile back. Don’t—
Too late. She was beaming like a headlight. “It shifted my priorities. From trying not to faint to trying not to sock you in the junk.”
“My junk is deeply grateful.” Eyes twinkling, he winked at her. “And I promise to make you deeply grateful for my junk.”
The laugh snuck out before she could trap it. “You’re such a bozo.”
“I’m your bozo.” The words were half muffled because he closed his wet mouth around her right nipple and suctioned lightly. His tongue provided friction at the same time and God, God, her legs jerked up around his hips, her back arching in a half-moon shape. He used his mouth on her breasts for so long, lapping and biting softly and thumbing her peaks, she almost reminded him they’d agreed on sex. But when she started to grow hot and agitated, she realized—once again—that this man knew exactly what he was doing.
“August.”
His hand slid up and cupped her face, tongue still working, working, working her swollen nipple and now . . . there was some kind of tugging cord between said nipple and her core. It vibrated and hummed, sending reverberations throughout her body. “Hmmm?”
“Can you please.”
“Please?”
“Be inside me now?”
The movements of his tongue were so slow and savoring, she was caught off guard when he lifted his head and she found his pupils taking up nearly his entire irises. “I’m not entering the palace without paying homage to the queen, Natalie,” he said, out of breath.
“What does that mean?”
“It means . . .” He licked up the hollow of her throat, all the way to her mouth, capturing it in a blistering kiss. “I thought I’d blown my chance to have you like this. I’m not sure how I was able to go on living. Still a mystery.” He sank his fingers into her hair, angled her head, and took her mouth in several slanting kisses that scrambled her brain, all while his big, fully dressed body kept her pinned hard to the mattress, his thickness trapped between their bellies like a taunt. “Bottom line, I’m not going in like some eager young puppy. Bad as I want to unzip my jeans and give you hell, princess, if your life doesn’t flash in front of your eyes when I finally get my cock inside you, I don’t deserve to call myself your husband.”
Natalie mentally reeled.
Opened her mouth to disagree that unzipping and giving hell was a negative thing.
But August had already stripped off his shirt—oh, the muscle—and rolled over onto his back. “Come here.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, that broad chest beginning to heave faster and faster. “Let me lick it.”
Her brain had gone offline. “I don’t understand.”
August either didn’t hear her or was choosing to ignore her confusion, because his teeth were sinking into that glossy bottom lip now, his palm stroking the ridge in his jeans. “Christ, just thinking about you sitting on my face might finish me.”
“You want me to—”
“I’m not above begging.”
Forget the fact that she’d never done that before. Not from the top position. But she’d experienced the force of nature that was August’s tongue on their wedding night and the memories were not just glorious, they were fresh. He didn’t need to beg. He didn’t even need to ask her twice. She straddled the mile-wide mountain range that was his chest, whimpering when he took two rough handfuls of her backside and dragged her onto his mouth.
Dragged.
Grinding her there. On his stiff tongue.
And now, ladies and gentlemen, she would never again underestimate the effects of nipple stimulation. There was no awkward moment or easing into the act of being pleasured from below. Not when he’d already gotten her this wet, this sensitive. There were only the desperate writhes of her hips, the shallow, hiccupping sounds emanating from her throat, August’s moans, and the wild urgency to climax.
He entered her with his tongue, pushed it as deep as possible—and her womb itself constricted, her thighs going rubbery. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” His middle finger teased her rear entrance, that magical tongue driving in, out, in—and goodbye reality, she was now a resident of the stars. She rode on a rainbow unicorn over the Milky Way and waved at an astronaut. Her body was still in the bedroom, thighs squeezing the sides of August’s head, fingers clutching shakily at the headboard while wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her lower body, tightening and releasing muscles, brutalizing her in the best way possible.