Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
He grinned at me, clearly pleased by my words. But then he sobered, leaning up on his elbow. He stared at me, brushing my long hair tenderly out of my face.
“Something changed when I saw you. Even before we met,” he added. “You made me want to be a better man.”
My mouth opened and a soft ‘oh’ escaped my lips. Before I could respond I saw the look in his eyes change. He was distracted by my mouth. He growled and before I knew it, I was on my back again, Vice above me, staring at me for a moment before his mouth came crashing down on mine.
Before long I was clawing at his shoulders, my body rocking against his in a forbidden rhythm. I moved on pure instinct, not even aware I was doing it until he lifted his head, staring down at me with an almost angry look on his face.
“I am going to leave my pants on,” he said. He was out of breath. So was I. “So we don’t make any mistakes.
“Mistakes?”
“You aren’t ready,” he pressed a finger to my lips when I tried to protest. “I’m not ready either.”
I burst out laughing. He was clearly ready. But he was being kind. No, no kind.
He was being protective.
“But there are other things we can do…”
“There are?”
“There are. And tonight, I am going to show you a few of them…”
He started kissing his way down my body, glancing up at me from time to time. I shivered in anticipation of what was to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Vice
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” I whispered in Anastasia’s perfect little shell ear. I stroked her hair, pressing a kiss to the soft, fragrant skin of her neck.
She murmured something and scooted back into my chest, the perfect, sexy little spoon to my big one.
The only trouble was, she was wearing her nightgown again.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, she had snuck it back on. I squeezed her, deciding not to complain about it. She didn’t need to know how desperate I was to feel her skin against mine again.
After last night, I was in a state of perpetual frustration. Even worse than it had been before, and that was saying something. I felt ready to combust.
If I was a cartoon character, there would have been steam coming out of my ears.
I had given myself free rein to touch and taste her last night. But that was it. I did not take my jeans off. I did not even scratch the surface of the second half of the very long list of things I wanted to do with, for, and to her.
She was my woman but I couldn’t claim her. Not for two more days. I could please her but not myself. It was heaven and hell, all at once.
I did not pass go. I did not collect two hundred dollars.
I had brought Anastasia to two shuddering climaxes. First with my hands and lips, then with my tongue alone. The first time had been sweet. Gentle. I had coaxed her to the edge and then over it with words of love and encouragement.
That second time… the second time was rougher, utterly filthy, and gorgeously satisfying.
Her thighs splayed open, held wide with my eager hands. My face against her pussy. My tongue inside her, driving ferociously in and out of her hot, tight, sweetness, lapping up every delicious drop of her.
She had been adorably shy after the first time I lowered myself between those gorgeous legs of hers. Her climax had been cute. Sweet. Dainty.
But after that? After holding her for a little while and trying to control my raging hard on? I had to taste her again. I had to fuck her, and since I couldn’t do it the whole and complete way, I had to do it with what I had.
I’d fucked her with my tongue. I hadn’t had a choice. If I didn’t have her again, I would have lost my damned mind.
More than just taking her, I had to make her scream.
I was still careful. I knew that I had to introduce her to sex the right way. Even though I couldn’t fully claim her yet, I wanted this to be special. The first time was for that. The second time was to make sure she could handle what I had in store for her later.
Knee shaking, bone quaking, hair pulling, sweaty, messy, filthy sex.
The way I had eaten her sweetness the second time was a little preview of things to come.
And goddamn, she hadn’t disappointed. She’d stayed sweet and natural. She was still innocent, though a little less so. Her halo was tarnished but still there, floating over the top of her gorgeous head.
But she had shocked me to my core with her responsiveness. She was a wild cat. And she was mine.