Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
She kept her head on a swivel for she’d never seen a basement such at this, and it was all so interesting.
But then, when she accepted Nikolai’s invitation for an extended tour of the ‘upper room,’ she felt hot all over. Her hand in his, he led her up the inclined, lop-sided steps. Once on the first floor, he broke contact, and she followed him into the kitchen.
“Just gonna grab us a little more to drink.”
Grabbing a bottle of wine from a rack, he slipped it beneath his arm, then put a bottle opener in his pocket. He picked two fresh glasses from the cabinet, then she walked with him to the white, winding staircase that had a small catwalk above. They ascended, their feet clopping on the wood.
He had a couple of large paintings on the wall—one of a castle immersed in a wintery wilderness, the other of a lighthouse surrounded by people getting off boats during a storm. Both paintings were beautifully done, but there was a sadness in them, too, probably because of their muted, dull colors.
Once on the top floor, she looked up at the skylight and smiled. The sun had set, and she could now see the stars across the dark blue velvet sky. He walked in front of her with confidence, but not brashness. He told no corny jokes to put her at ease, or give false promises of how much pleasure he was going to provide. No bravado.
Just breathing. Steps. Quiet.
This moment in time had been building up since the first time they laid eyes on one another, and now, it was playing out, like old love songs from a radio in a basement…
“Here we are.” He opened the bedroom door with a shove of his broad shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She stood by the doorway as he walked in and set the glasses and wine bottle down on a small glass table. He opened the bottle and poured each glass halfway. The room had a pitched roof, a small fireplace, and a large yet unassuming bed. The sheets were simple—medium blue, with a white comforter rolled down at the bottom of it. No frills or thrills.
What struck her most was the bed was made up so perfectly, in an almost military style. On the walls hung three paintings, ravens in various poses. Interesting that only one was black. Another was a rich blood red with piercing dark eyes, and the other, white with blue peepers. The black one sat on a skull with its glossy eyes on full alert, the white one on a branch looking away toward the sky, and the red one rested near a lit ivory candle, its face turned to the side, distinguished and aloof…
He was taking his clothes off. His shirt first, exposing a tapestry of tattoos, muscles and brawn. The mattress squeaked when he sat down and slipped off his socks. Now in only his black briefs, he fiddled with an old alarm clock until he found a radio station he wanted. Exile’s, ‘Kiss You All Over’ was playing.
Reality struck her. Grabbed her throat and squeezed. A mixture of fear and excitement revved within her as though someone was turning her handles, part of a motorcycle bike on fire with desire. By choice, it had been over a year since she’d slept with a man. She buried herself in work and wanted time to herself. No distractions from men… but then, that changed. She wanted more.
He started to rummage through a nightstand drawer, not once asking her why she was still standing there like some mannequin. That made it all the more interesting, alluring, and a bit troubling, too. He seemed to not be the least bit worried, nor felt the need to rush her along. He knew instinctively how to handle her—no pressure… It always felt as if he were one step ahead of her, while pretending to be two steps back.
She slipped out her clothing, one garment at a time, until there was nothing left but the air to kiss her bare skin. The chill ran a stiff tongue between her legs, making her fight a shudder. Her excitement was wet and needy, pulsing between her thighs.
He set a condom on the nightstand, moving slow and leisurely, before gliding underneath the top sheet.
She approached him, cupping her breasts, hiding her nipples that betrayed her and screamed of her yearnings. When she got into bed with him, he reached for her and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger before claiming her lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced with each other, and she tasted his wine and spices.
He raked his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. Eyes closed, she ran her hand along his chest, the soft hairs smooth against her touch. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his mouth down her neck, shoulder, then collar bone, delivering easy kisses along the way. She suddenly felt a hard jerk and she fell abruptly onto the mattress, her head slipping off the soft pillow she’d been resting on. She rose up then flipped back, gasping as he raised her ankles with one swift movement. He clutched her legs as if he were about to hang her upside down from the rafters.