Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 543(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 543(@300wpm)
“You’re so unbelievably sexy.” I whimper at his low whispered encouragement, the awe-filled truth in his words. “I know, darling, soon.” My body jolts as his thumb passes over the soft rise of my clit. I tilt my pelvis, an ache clawing through my insides, my need suddenly desperate.
“Please.” The image of us is so utterly erotic. His large, tan hand wrapped around my thigh, the other working wetly between my legs. Just like my book heroine, but unlike Lady Arabella, I’m not his captive. I’m captivated by him.
“I love how wet you are for me.” I feel like I’m going to cry from the sheer torture of his commentary, from his touch. From the feel of his hard cock at my ass.
Roman.” I gasp, needing more, my insides pulsing greedily.
“Then let me watch you.” His finger peels away the lace cup of my bra, my breast reflected in the mirror. “Show me how you make yourself come.”
“I can’t decide if I’m being seduced or overcome,” I whisper as his thumb caresses my nipple, his mouth a tender press against my neck.
“Lady’s choice.” He laughs huskily, his dark eyes rising to mine in the mirror. “Maybe a bit of both. I want your trust and vulnerability, Kennedy, more than it seems I want my next breath.”
“Please don’t die,” I say with a breathless snicker. “Not on my account.”
“I won’t. At least, not until I’ve made you come. But for now.” He presses my hand over my pussy. “The lady comes first.”
“I’m really not sure.” But I’m already touching myself, my hand cupping, squeezing a little.
“Yeah, like that.” His whispered praise overlays my stuttering sigh. My eyes flutter closed as I slide my finger through my wetness. His hand tightens over my thigh as he whispers, “Eyes open, sweetheart. You don’t want to miss this.”
Arching against him, I begin to circle and pet, undone as much by his expression as I am by a well-practised rhythm. Sliding and strumming, I undulate against him, ignoring the chime of my bracelet. I want his words, crave his touch, so thoroughly owned by his gaze.
“I’m so hard for you.” I feel each and every one of those growled syllables pressed against my skin. “I can’t wait to lick you clean.”
“Oh, fuck!” I curl my toes, pressing them into the rug, the sensations rushing through me like electricity. The intensity of the moment is insane, and I come almost instantly, my body bowing into my hand as I cry out his name.
I come down from my high slowly, wrapped in Roman’s arms, not yet ready to address the sight or the situation.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers. I answer his whispered dare with a shake of my head, smiling to myself as his fingers dance down my arm.
“With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes.”
“What is that?” I twist a little, bringing my gaze to his when he smiles the sort of smile that makes my insides pulse. Yes, again. He has a lot of smiles, but I don’t think I’ve seen bashful on him.
“It’s a nursery rhyme,” he admits as he runs his finger along the bracelets, making them chime together again. “When you came downstairs earlier, the noise they made reminded me of it. It’s silly, I know.”
“No, I don’t think so.” It’s kind of sweet, even if I am sort of spread out, semi-naked against him. “I don’t think I’ve heard it before,” I whisper softly.
“There’s more.” He shakes his head as though shaking off the silliness. “But I can’t remember the rest of it.”
This stranger, this reticent, almost shy Roman, is so endearing. Which I guess is why I twist in his lap, sliding my hand around the back of his neck and bring my mouth to his. This kiss is new also, slow, almost hypnotic. Kissing, kissing, kissing. Fingers stray, bracelets chime, and smiles like jewels are pressed to mouths. Skin slides against skin, tiny fires igniting. Words come next. Half sentences. Bare utterances.
Yes—
There—
A fever builds, the kind that the swipe of his tongue can only quench.
Then I hear him whisper.
Your velvet cunt—
From languid to frantic, we’re suddenly tearing off each other’s clothes. My dress hits the floor, my bra lasting barely a second longer. My hands grip his belt as he pulls the T-shirt from his head, swooping down to suck the peak of my nipple into his mouth. But I have other plans as I free his hard cock from the confines of his jeans.
“I want it,” I whisper, pulling his jeans from one hip and sliding from the side of the bed to my knees. His cock juts free, long and thick. I wonder if his size and heat will always come as a surprise as I take him in my grip.