Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Oh.
Slowly, deliberately, he pulls my hand to his mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the chocolate from my fingertip. His gaze never leaves mine, the sheer dominance in his expression making my knees weak.
“Damn,” he mutters, licking the last of the chocolate away. “That’s good.”
My pulse thrums against my skin. “The mousse or me?”
He smirks. “Both.”
Heat pools low in my belly.
“You keep spoiling me like this, and I’m not letting you leave my sight,” he murmurs, leaning in.
I arch a brow. “Who says I’m leaving?”
That stops him. His jaw tics, his grip tightening on my waist.
“Say it again,” he demands, voice rough.
I trace a finger down the front of his shirt, over the hard ridges of muscle. “I’m not leaving.”
The air shifts, electricity crackling between us.
Then Flint moves.
His hands grip the counter behind me, caging me in as his mouth claims mine—deep, possessive, and scorching hot.
My fingers dig into his chest, a whimper slipping past my lips as he swallows me whole, his body pressing me back against the cool marble.
“Flint,” I gasp when he breaks away, trailing kisses down my neck.
He lifts me onto the counter with effortless strength, spreading my legs so he can step between them. His fingers skim beneath my shirt, rough palms sliding against my bare skin, making me shiver.
“I’ve been starving for you since the second I met you,” he growls, scraping his teeth against my throat. “And you waltz into my kitchen, making something sweet, looking like sin itself…I could taste you everyday and it wouldn’t be enough.”
I grin, breathless. “Figured you deserved a treat.”
His hands tighten on my hips. “Then let me have a taste.”
His mouth crashes against mine again, his kiss hot and consuming, and I know without a doubt—Flint isn’t just some mountain man passing through my life.
He is my life.
And I never want to leave his arms.
“I can’t wait to try a taste of your specialty.” He picks up a spoon, dragging it through the batter and teasing it at my lips. I shake my head, too nervous just waiting for him to taste it for the first time.
He plops it in his mouth, eyes closing as a sexy groan falls from his lips. “Incredible.”
He takes a few more bites before dropping his spoon and lifting me in his arms, cementing our lips so I can taste the honey and chocolate sweetness on his flesh.
We kiss with wild pleasure, his hands traveling my skin as he stands, his thick cock pressing into my hip as he backs us to the sofa. His fingers nudge under my waistband and sweep at my soaked core, eliciting a riot of feelings before desperate little moans fall on my lips.
“You taste way better than that dessert, sweet cheeks.” He pulls his hand from my pants and swipes the glistening arousal across my lips. And then his lips are on mine, tasting me and sharing the sexy sweetness of my arousal and my dessert on our lips.
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt–he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt.
“I've been waiting for the right time to tell you this, but…I knew I could love you from the moment we met, then, after this week… if it's possible, I love you even more now.”
“Flint–” I whimper against his lips, “I love you too. You made me love you with all your protective, hero stuff.”
He laughs, kissing me again. “I’m so glad to hear I made such a lasting impression.” His kisses turn more dominant, greedier. “You don't know what it does to me to hear you say that.”
"I can hardly sleep at night. My mind races with thoughts of you," I confess as his hands wander across my sensitive body.
"Oh?" He sinks deeper into the pillows. "Tell me what was keeping you up all night."
His eyes twinkle mischievously as I hesitate. "Your hands, your mouth, on me..."
"Where?" He smirks as one of his hands finds the string of my apron hidden behind a pillow.
"Everywhere." I reply, feeling a rush of desire coursing through my body.
He raises an eyebrow and runs the apron string through his fingers. "I need more specific instructions than that."
He's flirting now, and it only adds to the heat building inside me. "Oral. I couldn't stop thinking about your tongue between my thighs all night."
With renewed determination, he flips me over on the couch with a smirk. "Is that right, little miss sweet cheeks?"
He taps at my cotton-covered pussy, his eyes turning predatory as he hovers over me, burying his nose in the center of my aroused core, inhaling deeply.
“This is fucking delicious,” he says, tapping my most private part again. I let out little moans as he strips me of my panties and covers my flesh with his mouth. He takes his time, slowly devouring me with deft precision. His fingers work my clitoris, the scratch of his beard on my hot flesh already enough to make me tremble.