Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Are we...” My voice barely registers.
He moves closer and I instinctively back up, my back hitting the hallway wall. But he doesn’t stop. Desire swims in his eyes as he cups my cheek and leans his forehead against mine, gently tugging on the end of a wet strand of my hair.
“I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you,” he rumbles, his lips so close to mine I can feel the warmth of his breath.
“The first time?”
“Hell yes. I only hated the idea of you, Josie. But the way you stood up to me...” He puts his palm on my thigh and I inhale sharply. “You refuse to take my shit. No one’s ever done that.” He slides his hand up around the back of my thigh, hiking it up around his waist. “I don’t just want you. I need you.”
He showered before we left the hotel this morning. I can smell a hint of his pine-tree-scented soap. I want more. More of his scent, his words, his skin. I grip a handful of his T-shirt and tug, urging him on.
His lips settle against mine at the same time his massive palm grips my ass, my squeal becoming a moan. My mouth yields to his, his tongue sweeping against mine. I let go of my towel to wrap my hand around his neck, gasping as I feel the towel getting looser.
“Don’t,” he says as I reach for it.
“Dane...” My heart hammers nervously.
“Let me see you. I’ve waited so fucking long.”
He threads his fingers into mine and gently pins one of my hands to the wall, then does the same to the other. My chest rises and falls as I breathe hard, terrified of him seeing me naked in broad daylight.
“I’m average,” I say weakly. “I’m not like you.”
He hums a note of amusement. “You are anything but average.”
I lean my head back, rolling my eyes up toward the ceiling as I exhale heavily. He opens my towel all the way, my back the only thing holding it against the wall.
I’m so not prepared for this. I shaved my legs and pits in the shower, but my lady bits haven’t been waxed in ages.
“Fucking finally,” he says in a low tone, cupping one of my breasts. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth on these forever.”
He bends, lowering his tongue to one of my nipples, and I arch my back, my inhibitions forgotten. The towel drops to the floor, but who fucking cares? He’s licking, sucking and tugging my nipples between his teeth in a way that I can somehow feel between my thighs.
Ragged exhales are all I can manage as he teases them, moving my hands above my head and holding my wrists with just one of his hands. He’s so big, his body towering over mine in a way that feels deliciously overwhelming.
His free hand cups my breast, working in tandem with his mouth. He knows how to apply exactly the right amount of pressure to my nipples to send sparks of arousal shooting through me without causing pain. I had no idea having them pinched and nibbled on felt this good.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s possible to orgasm from nipple stimulation when his hand slides down from holding my wrists. He kisses his way down my stomach and I gasp, wishing we were in the dark.
He’s on his knees, looking up at me with a reverent expression. His hands cradle my hips and a devilish smirk plays on his face as he says, “Spread your feet apart, gorgeous.”
Holy. Shit. Right here in the hallway? I bite my lip, holding back a nervous laugh.
His full smirk appears. “You’ll spread ’em soon enough.”
He buries his face between my thighs, tonguing my clit. I gasp, my palms hitting the wall. I want to feel self-conscious, but the way he’s swirling his tongue...I’m lost in the sensation. My hips are in his hands and he’s devouring me, his mouth every bit as skilled here as it was on my breasts.
He was right. I quickly find myself moving my feet apart to allow him more access, shamelessly grinding my hips, moving against his face as I feel the first orgasm I’ve had in a very long time about to rock through me.
“Oh god, Dane,” I pant. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He doesn’t, and I practically ride his face as I come apart, crying out with satisfaction.
When my body goes limp, he finally stands up, wiping my arousal from his face with his T-shirt.
“Why are you still dressed?” I ask him.
“I won’t be for long.”
He grins and pulls his T-shirt off over his head, then kicks off his shoes and pushes his shorts and boxers off. I look from his impressive, rock-hard erection to his face and then back to his erection again.
“You okay?” he asks, arching a brow.