Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“There still won't come a day when I don't want to grab it when nobody's looking.” His teeth sink into my ass cheek, just enough to still be playful before he purses his lips, his eyes pointing toward the ceiling. “Actually, it doesn't matter if anyone's looking or not. I'm still going to want to grab it.”
“I hope you don't end up getting tired of me.”
The mischievousness in his features twists, and he hits me with an apprehensive look that makes me wish I hadn't said that. “Where's this coming from? I've told you before there is no getting tired of you. Wanting you in the first place had nothing to do with danger or how wrong it was for us to be together. It's you, Bianca. Everything about you. There won't be a day when I don't want you. Crave you. Fantasize about you how a dying man fantasizes about having one more happy, healthy day.”
Warmth stirs in my core as he sweeps his tongue over my skin, as it always does at times like this. I know what he means about craving—I crave him, too, constantly. No matter what I'm doing, he's always there, lurking in the back of my mind like some prize I get at the end of the day—something to always look forward to. Even when I was sleeping down the hall, lost, hurt, and confused… I wanted him. He was the reason for my pain and the only thing that could take it away.
Once he's finished his slow tour and we're face-to-face, I make a point of casting a look toward the clock on the nightstand. “It's getting late. Romero will be up here any minute now wondering why you aren't already at your desk.”
His groan leaves me chuckling while I run my fingers through his hair. “Way to go and mention him at a time like this.”
I look down between our naked bodies to find his thick cock jutted out and hard as steel. “It didn't seem to do anything to him,” I point out, brushing my fingertips over the mushroom head, grinning at his heavy sigh.
So needy, and only I can give him what he craves.
“That's because he has a one-track mind.”
“Funny. I thought you were the one with the one-track mind.”
“Don't tell anybody.” He winds his fingers around mine and gives me an insistent tug until there's no choice except to follow him out of bed. “He does a lot of my thinking for me.”
“I figured that much.” It's not like I can complain or act like I don't want to get in the shower with him—any excuse to be close for an extra few minutes before real-life stuff gets in the way.
Soon it's Callum's hands I'm more focused on, how he gets right down to the business of lathering me up with my lilac body wash. The flowery scent fills the shower, just one more pleasurable thing for my senses to pick up on, along with the pleasure of being touched. Wanted. Treasured. Things might not be perfect between us—we have a long way to go—but we can always come back to this.
“Let me do your back.” I turn and face the wall, bracing my forearms against the tile while he lathers my neck, then my shoulders, before working his way further down. “You have the most perfect skin. It's unreal.” He slows, his touch becoming more deliberate.
What's unreal is the sudden electricity in the air. How does he do it? It's his soft, seductive voice. The throb of desire running through it. How his hand lingers a beat longer than necessary when he soaps my legs, or how his fingertips skim my ass cheeks until I tremble. By the time he's finished, I'm one big, pulsing nerve ready to beg for release.
I have to credit him for taking as long as he does before his body begins sliding against mine. “Are you my shower sponge now?” My chuckle is cut off by the touch of his hand between my legs, caressing my already swollen lips. How is it so easy for him to turn me into a whimpering, needy animal whose only goal is to come?
“I'm afraid I'll only be able to get you dirty.” His breathing is harsh and heavy in my ear, and he exchanges his dick for his hand. The touch of his thick head against my clit is the added friction I needed, as I spread my legs wider and bear down to increase the pressure while he slips through my wet folds.
“Am I complaining?” No, instead, I arch my back to give him better access to my pussy.
“Mmm…” His hands grip my hips, almost as if he's testing to make sure I can handle what he's going to give me. Then he releases his grip and slides them up my sides before cupping my breasts, his fingers gently pinching my pink nipples, hardening them. “Somebody's in a hurry. Did I not give you enough last night?”