Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Well, if that was what he wanted he was out of luck.
“Yes. I thought you did too? Why did you stop?”
The corner of his lip lifted in an oh-so wicked lopsided smile.
“Because, temptress”—ooh she liked the sound of that old-fashioned word very, very much—“you nearly made me come in my pants.”
She lifted her head, her mouth falling open as she stared at him in wonder. He was now fully turned toward her and had repositioned himself until he was crouched, on all fours, on the mattress in front of her.
He prowled—it was literally the only word applicable for the predatory movement—toward her. She uncurled her body from its defensive ball, straightening her legs, as he crept up their length, his hands and knees planted on either side of them.
He didn’t stop until his face was an inch away from hers, at which point he lifted his hands and knelt in front of her. Knees planted on either side of her hips as he straddled her lap. He lowered himself slowly, showing off the impressive strength of his solid thighs by hovering his butt just above her lap.
His broad chest was in her face and he cupped her jaw almost roughly to tilt her head up. The angle gave her a crick in the neck, but she wasn’t about to complain. She found that she kind of liked his uncompromising bossiness in certain situations.
“Do you want to finish what we started?” His voice was so gruff she felt it like a physical scrape over her beaded nipples and down there, where she still clenched and spasmed after the loss of his heat and hardness.
She kept her eyes trained on his, needing him to know that she meant this. That she wanted it.
“Yes.”
“But Fern… This can’t mean anything. We’re scratching an itch. We both want it. It’s just sex. It’s convenient. But it can get complicated. If you have any uh… any feelings for me. We shouldn’t do this.”
“As you pointed out the other day, we don’t know each other,” she whispered, trying to keep that ever-present sting of rejection from her voice as she laid out what were—after all—the facts. “How can I have feelings for a man I barely know?”
He watched her for a moment longer before nodding—seemingly satisfied with her reply.
“Hell with it, at this point, I’m too horny to fucking care. Just remember that this doesn’t mean anything and we’ll be fine. Now... unbutton my shirt,” he said, his authoritative voice sent a thrill down her spine and she hastened to obey.
Her fingers shook slightly as she worked from top to bottom. She fumbled the job quite badly but he was patient, his hands combing through her hair while she revealed his taut, beautiful skin with excruciating slowness. It didn’t help that she was taking outrageous liberties while she was doing it. Her fingers and mouth, petting and stroking and kissing—even biting—every inch of smooth skin she bared.
She moaned when she reached the last button, and pushed the two halves of his shirt apart to stare in wonder at the treasure she’d just uncovered. A hard, broad chest, roughened with a silky black hair over magnificently sculpted pecs. The hair narrowed to a trail that ribboned down his torso between those washboard abs and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
He shrugged out of the hopelessly wrinkled shirt and tossed it aside, before pushing himself up on his knees until his crotch was in her face. Fern swallowed, and licked her lips, as she stared at the intimidating bulge straining at the fly of his navy-blue trousers.
He placed a hand at the top of her head, and another below her chin and once again tilted her head back to meet his eyes. She had to lean back a bit to see past the jutting swell of his groin.
“Handle with care, princess,” he warned. “My cock isn’t in the mood for any of the touchy feely shit you just did with my chest and abs.”
She moaned and licked her lips at the thought of uncovering the length that—before now—she’d only held and stroked but never actually seen.
He tightened his grip slightly on her jaw, not enough to hurt her—she trusted that he would never physically harm her—but just enough to draw her attention away from his crotch.
“Understand, Fern?”
“Y-yes?”
“What do you understand?” Amusement was laced through the words.
“I can take it out?” Her voice shook with excitement.
“Yes and…?”
“I can touch it?” Now she sounded hopeful.
There was long silence and she lifted her eyes, again, afraid she’d misinterpreted.
“Do you want to touch it?”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed.
“What else do you want to do with it?” His voice sounded only mildly curious, but she could hear the faint tremor in it, and knew he wasn’t as unaffected as he sounded.
“Kiss it?”
“Yes and…?” Now he sounded breathless.