Vegas, Baby – Volume 1 Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67644 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
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His tongue swept across his bottom lip, and his dark eyes heated. “Oh, yeah.”

“An orgasm sounds like the perfect way to make up for your little mistake earlier.” I wasn’t mad at him anymore, but I also wasn’t stupid. There was no way I was going to give up the chance to have his fingers and mouth on me. He was just so damn good with them.

He shifted closer to me and whispered in my ear, “Great minds think alike because that’s what I had planned.”

As he swept my hair to the side, his fingers stayed under my skirt and stroked lightly through my wetness. I shivered when he kissed down my neck to the spot where it met my shoulder and bit down just hard enough to leave a mark behind. I moaned and tilted my head to the side to give him better access. His hand slid higher and pushed at the hem of my skirt. I lifted off the seat so he could he could shove the material up to my hips.

I knew the restaurant’s rules about the privacy curtain prevented the employees from disturbing us, but there was still an extra sense of naughtiness to what we were doing. The feeling that someone could catch us at any minute shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did because of how safe I felt with Becket. I might not have known him long, but I had no doubt he’d do whatever it took to protect me.

He couldn’t stand to have another man’s eyes on me when I was dressed in something that showed a little extra skin. There was no way in hell he’d ever let someone see me half-naked. That knowledge was what allowed me to sprawl out on the booth while Becket drove me closer and closer to climax.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled against my neck.

When I turned my head, I found him staring down my body to where his hand was on my pussy. The masculine approval in his dark eyes ratcheted up my need. He was barely touching me, and it was already almost as good as the sex we’d had together. “Becket, please.”

“How is it that you keep getting even more perfect? You’re already like a dream come true for me. It shouldn’t be possible.” His cheek nuzzled against my throat before he shifted me away from his body, turning and sliding me over until I was lying on my back on the booth’s bench. Then he scooted further away and bent low, his mouth hovering over my core.

His tongue circled my clit while he sank two fingers deep inside my wet heat. I was already so close; my pussy fluttered around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of me. His mouth kept at me too, licking and sucking. When he tugged at my swollen clit, my back bowed off the booth. Then he added a twist of his wrist to the thrust of his fingers, and my body drew tight. “I’m so close.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Give it to me. I want to taste you as you come so hard for me. It’ll be better than any dessert I’ve ever had.”

His breath blew hot against me, and then he wrapped his lips around my clit and tugged. My knees tightened on his shoulders, and my body quaked as my orgasm blasted through me. “Oh my—Yes! Becket!”

My cries of completion echoed around us, and Becket lifted me up and wrapped his arms around me, pressing my head against his chest. After cleaning me with an extra linen napkin from the table, he smoothed my skirt down over my ass.

My eyes were closed, but they popped open when I heard him lift the phone and growl into it, “We’re leaving. Please let our server know there will be more than enough cash on the table to cover our bill and tip and ask the valet to pull my car around.”

My eyebrows went high as I watched him yank his wallet from his pocket. He pulled a few large bills out and dropped them on the table.

“Becket?” My voice waivered when I caught the flash of anger in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

He dropped a brief kiss on my lips, and I tasted myself on him. “Of course not, sweetheart. Like I said before, you’re perfect.”

“Then why do you seem mad?”

“Because I’m a dumb ass,” he growled before he reached over to yank the curtains open. Then he slid out of the booth and pulled me with him. He didn’t let go of my hand until he helped me into his car—after glaring at the valet when he tried to do it—and he claimed it again after he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb.

I shifted in my seat to face him better and squeezed his hand. “I don’t understand what went wrong back there. How does you giving me an amazing orgasm after an incredibly thoughtful date make you a dumb ass? I thought it was brilliant.”


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