Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
I lie so still, as if I hope he’ll reward me for my compliance.
His fingers move again, drawing down the curve of my hip, skimming over my thighs and leaving me bereft. Instead of picking up steam, he goes in reverse, slowing down to the point of agony. He dips his head and kisses along the swell of my breasts, pointedly keeping it chaste. His touches are featherlight, and yet they overwhelm me.
His mouth moves teasingly close to my breasts, and I moan and arch up, begging. Still, his fingertips and mouth only taunt me until I feel so tense I’m nearly vibrating. He pays close attention, noting where I seem to be most sensitive. I shiver when his hands draw down the center of my abdomen, and when he does it again, my fingers fist against the bedsheets.
He stokes a fire in me, pushing me further and further toward the edge.
“Nate. Please.”
I don’t recognize the desperation in my voice. The hitch. The plea. The wantonness.
Finally, Nate’s left hand catches my hip, holding me in place while his right hand slips between my legs, parting them as he touches me so expertly, watching for every reaction, listening to every gasp. It’s too easy for him now that he’s dragged this out. I could come apart from nothing at all, the shifting of air. Yet still, he draws out my pleasure until my nails are dragging down his arms, until my mouth finds his and I beg him with urgent, soul-searing kisses.
When my skin is slick and I’m hot and aching—when I think I can’t take this agony for one more moment—he comes up and over me. I hold my breath, watching every inch he sinks inside me. Too much, too tight, too deep—that’s the way it feels until he kisses me into acceptance, rolling his hips gently until I relax down into the sheets, languid and hot.
His mouth is near my ear when he says, “You asked me why I left out the relationship between Amelia and Julian in the summary.” I gasp as he pulls out and thrusts back into me. “You want to know what it feels like when he finally has her? When she’s underneath him for the first time?” He kisses my neck, scraping his teeth against my skin, and I arch up to give him better access. “How can I possibly put this on the page, Summer?” he asks as he hits a new, deep part of me that makes me suck in a sharp breath. “How can I convey what he feels for her?”
He sounds utterly incensed.
Sparks travel down my skin when his hands find my breasts, palming them possessively, and then he’s thrusting into me, maintaining a relentless pace as my legs wrap around his hips. Every piece fits. It’s no less overwhelming than the first time, but I don’t cry. I spread open for him, my heart his for the taking.
I’ve been hanging on by a thread since he began to touch me, and now it’s too hard to stave off the inevitable. He pulls his lips away from me and slides his hand between our bodies, swirling his fingers, and all at once, everything comes alive as I shatter. I squeeze him tightly as I cry out, and he groans into my neck. On and on. I think I barely remember to breathe. His name slips past my lips and then I feel him coming too, feeding off our shared pleasure.
For a long time after, we breathe together, his chest expanding as mine contracts, and when I open my eyes, I see him already watching me, his gaze soft and hopeful.
I smile, and he leans down to kiss me. Short and sweet.
Then he slips off to the side of me, but when I make to get up, he holds me against him.
“Not yet,” he says, when what I think he means is, Not ever.
We lie in his bed as a tangle of limbs. For a little while we’re quiet, gathering thoughts.
I’m the one to speak first, but I don’t look at him, finding it easier if I keep my attention on the bookshelves across the room. “I feel like I should tell you my mind is already made up.”
He’s drawing circles on my shoulder when he replies with a resigned, “Go on.”
“Tomorrow, I’m going to have you drive me to Leeds, and I’m getting on a plane back to New York.”
He stays quiet. “Well, if we’re being honest, I don’t want you to go.” Then more vehemently he adds, “Stay here.”
I can’t let his words seep in. “Nate, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, I don’t belong here in this way anymore, as an employee of InkWell.”
I mean, clearly, we’re well past that. We’re naked in his bed, after all.
He looks up at the ceiling. “I wish the timing were different. Or circumstances. Or…I don’t know.”