Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
He didn’t resist. What was the point? He could barely say no when she was reluctant, but when she was pleading in that husky, lost little voice…
Trees covered her mouth again, sinking deep and groaning as she met him halfway. His fingers tangled in her hair. She clung to his shoulders. Their hearts beat together, and he felt her breathing quicken. Passion surged, scorching his blood.
Fuck, how was he going to stop this?
She met his groan with a needy whimper, then broke their kiss, panting. “Touch me.”
A livewire of want jolted him. Did she know she was flirting with trouble? “Laila…”
“Please.”
Son of a bitch.
He slid a hand down to her thigh, carefully avoiding her abrasions, and lifted his fingers under the overlarge T-shirt, palming her hip. He made a shocking discovery.
Laila wasn’t wearing underwear.
His raging heartbeat surged, thrashing against his chest as his fingertips continued their path up her body, dipping in with her waist, floating up her ribs, until he cradled her breast, thumbing his way over the rigid tip.
She arched to him, sighing into his kiss.
“More?” he asked.
“Yes. I want to feel the explosion you made me feel before.”
She wanted to come. He was happy to oblige.
Impatiently, he worked at the big shirt covering her, sliding the cotton up her body until the hem settled against her collarbones. Then he dragged his lips down her neck, nipping at her ear until she shivered, before descending again, pressing kisses around the straining tip of her breast until she dug her nails into him with a protest that sounded like something between a huff and a groan.
He nosed his way up her nipple, then dragged his beard down over it. She gasped and began to writhe impatiently. He soaked up every moment of her sensual distress, loving the way she gave her body over to him second by second.
Finally, he closed his lips around the hard, rosy tip of one breast, pinching and twisting the other between his fingers. She responded with an anguished wail of need that torqued him up and urged him on. He abraded her nipple with his tongue, then followed with a soft bite of teeth before sucking it deep.
She grabbed him in a desperate grip. “Trees!”
“That’s a good girl,” he crooned. “Let me make you feel good.”
“Yes. Yes…”
Whatever else she meant to say dissolved into wordless pleading as he switched from one breast to the other and repeated the delicate torture, stoking her desire and keeping satisfaction out of reach. He wanted her to not merely want him but to crave him like he craved her—a constant, clawing ache that would not be denied and would not go away.
Beneath him, her legs spread. Her hips lifted. Her lips skimmed his shoulder before she sucked at his neck, breathing hard against his skin, sending shudder after shudder down his spine.
Fuck, this was quickly becoming a runaway train that he didn’t see ending without him inside her, thrusting every hard, aching inch deep until she begged him for more with unintelligible words, then cried out in bliss.
Trees wasn’t thinking about anything else when he migrated a hand down her body, covered her pussy with his greedy palm, and shoved a pair of fingers inside her. Yep, wet—and not just a little. She was downright juicy, and the thought of her body softening and making way for his cock added another gallon of gas onto the raging fire between them.
With a mewl, she bit into his neck and gyrated herself against his hand, impaling herself on his fingers all the way to hilt. “Trees…”
“Need more, honey?” he murmured against her breast.
Frantically, she nodded, spreading her thighs even wider, wrapping one of her legs around his, then lifting to him feverishly.
How had this “good-night kiss” gotten so out of hand so quickly?
Does it matter? Are you really going to stop?
Fuck no. Hector and Victor Ramos had done nothing but crush her spirit before they’d abused her trust and her body. If he could show her real pleasure and make her realize she deserved it, hell yeah. This wasn’t forever; he knew that. Why would she be happy in his three-bedroom ranch house in the middle of Nowhere, Louisiana? It was nothing fancy, and he wasn’t anyone special. But he could make her feel good and help her build trust until she returned to life with her sister…and eventually paired off with the man she would marry. Whose children she would bear.
Some time with Laila was better than none, right?
In theory, but her leaving might rip out his heart.
Trees refused to worry about it now. He settled his thumb over her clit and thrust his way back into her mouth, making love to her lips like it might be the last time. Because it very well might. He wasn’t taking anything for granted.