Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“Please . . . please . . . gonna . . . pee myself.” She was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone more beautiful. Moving over her, he leaned in and kissed her. He started lightly, but soon he grew more forceful, more commanding. Truth was, he didn’t know how to be anything else. He slid his hand under the sweatshirt to play with her breast, lightly pinching her nipple.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. Her eyes were glazed, her lips plump and red.
Fuck. She was so damn gorgeous.
It didn’t matter if she was wearing that gold dress with her hair falling down in a silky wave or a teddy bear tracksuit with her hair up in a messy bun without any make-up. She was stunning.
He slid his mouth down her neck and she moved her head to one side, letting him kiss his way to her shoulder.
She let out a sigh, then stiffened slightly, pushing at him. He stilled, glancing down at her. Did she need him to stop?
“I’m meant to be taking care of you,” she explained, trying to get him to roll onto his back.
“That’s right, you are,” he murmured. Although he really wanted to get his mouth on her. On her breasts. Her pussy. Her lips.
Fuck, he might be getting addicted to the taste of her.
“You want to?” he asked.
He was used to things like rules, boundaries, and safewords.
Although, with her, he just wanted to demand her trust. To know that she’d listen and obey no matter what.
But he had no right to demand trust from her.
“A deal is a deal.”
He narrowed his gaze, but she grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Besides, I want to.”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure. Gimme the good stuff.” She got off the bed with a giggle.
He shook his head at her. “Girl, do you always joke during sex?
“What?” Her eyes widened. “Is it meant to be serious? All intense? Actually, that could be sexy. I’ll try to be more serious.”
She straightened her face and gave him a sharp look, her brows lowered. That look . . .
“Are you trying to impersonate me?” he asked.
“How am I doing? Not bad, right? One moment . . .” She climbed off the bed and stood with her legs parted and her arms crossed over her chest. Putting her chin down, she glared at him. “You. Pants off. Sit at the edge of the bed. Now.”
Brat.
She was really good at impersonating him. Not that he was going to tell her that. He didn’t want to encourage her.
“You’re a brat.”
“And you have entirely too much clothing on,” she countered.
Standing, he grasped her chin and kissed her lightly. The rush of arousal had at least cleared away the cobwebs of his exhaustion.
“Such a pretty, naughty brat. Undress me.”
She reached for his belt immediately. So she did know how to do what she was told. That was a shock.
And yeah, her obedience had his dick growing impossibly harder. Fuck. Him.
Her small fingers tugged at his jeans, drawing them down. She undid his boots and he helped her pull them off, as well as his jeans. He was only dressed in his boxers and shirt.
“Someone is excited,” she murmured, staring at his tented boxers.
“And impatient.”
She grinned up at him from where she was crouched.
“Good things come to those who wait.”
“Bad things come to those who tease,” he grumbled.
“Poor Gray, so grumpy and impatient. You’re like a giant Grumpy muffin.”
“I’m beginning to prefer being called Grampy,” he muttered.
“Grampy? Someone calls you Grampy?” she asked with a wide grin. “That’s a great nickname. Is it a play on grumpy and your name? Wow, I’m going to have to up my nickname game.”
He glared down at her.
You cannot spank her. You cannot spank her.
Although she definitely deserved one for hurting her hand on purpose just before. She was trouble. And her disregard for her own safety worried him.
But it shouldn’t.
Because this was just about the sex.
“Never you mind, brat. Because you’re not calling me that.”
She giggled. “I want to meet whoever gave you that nickname.”
He tensed at that thought. She and Dahlia would probably get along well. In some ways, they were alike. Which was surprising since he’d never been attracted to Dahlia. Despite what Markovich had thought. She was more like an annoying little sister who talked a lot.
Maeve had more confidence in some ways. And perhaps less in others. He couldn’t imagine Dahlia making a bet where she’d blow him if she lost.
Well, not him . . . that thought was just wrong on so many levels. But with Markovich.
Dahlia was less confident around other people. She had some issues with touch. And she got anxiety attacks. The only person she seemed comfortable with touching her was Markovich.
Maeve was almost the opposite. She didn’t seem to be worried enough. She was amazingly resilient. Surprisingly so. He wondered if she’d properly dealt with being attacked the other night or if she’d just buried it. That was something he’d do. Bury shit until it didn’t affect him.