Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
She shifted beneath him, those pretty little moans that had him harder than iron growing louder as she moved against his dick. Holding her gaze, he dipped his head while lifting one breast to suck her nipple into his mouth.
“Oh God!”
He settled on his heels, using his free hand to hook her leg around his waist, needing her as close as possible. Bent at the waist, he lavished attention on both breasts, not leaving them alone until they both shone with his kisses and had to burn from his facial hair on them. Marking each one. Marking her.
As she panted harder, he slipped his hand between them once more, pushing unerringly back into her wetness.
“You’re so fucking wet, lioness. And it’s all for me, isn’t it.”
He wasn’t asking. He knew it was and he wouldn’t share for the world.
A few shallow pumps of his wrist and he avoided her reach so he could inch down her body, using his shoulders to keep her legs spread.
“You can’t.” Her protest fell on deaf ears.
The scent of her arousal on his fingers had driven him crazy enough, but now, right there, he wanted more.
“So fucking pretty.” He shifted and got his hands on her clothing before he yanked, ripping her undergarments wide, leaving no further barrier between them.
“You… You…”
“Yeah, baby. Me. I did.” Dragging his hand over her cleft, he paused when she dug her hands into his hair once more. Pain, a delicious erotic pain, sliced along his scalp, and he blew on her.
Wet. Pink. Intoxicating. This woman didn’t have a clue of the hold she had on him. Then again, perhaps she did. Wedging himself into a bit more comfortable a position, he cupped her full ass in his hands and lifted her to his mouth. Then he tasted Rosamunde Fletcher.
Son of a bitch. He’d not been prepared. Honey and spice. A flavor he wouldn’t ever get enough of. Lifting his head, he took two deep breaths.
“Look at me.” He gave the order, refusing to be denied.
She lay sprawled out on the bed, her bunched-up skirt a barrier between his gaze and hers. He wasn’t okay with that, needing her gaze on him.
Rosamunde lifted her head and set it back down.
He nipped the tender skin of her inner thigh and repeated his demand. This time she lurched up, resting on her elbows, face flushed and eyes begging for something he didn’t doubt she didn’t have the confidence to voice.
Making sure their gazes remained locked, he moved his chin down and used his thumbs to spread her wide before allowing himself a long, slow lick up her center. She trembled and his cock punched into the bedding beneath them.
“Fucking addicted.” He dragged his tongue up once more, circling her clit before he sucked it into his mouth. Her chin trembled as she shook, trying to keep herself up.
“Tell me to stop, lioness, and I will.”
She ran her tongue along her lower lip, mimicking his move to pull in more of her unique taste. “I don’t want you to stop.”
Good, because it would have been hell to find the strength to do so.
Retaining his hold on her gaze, he rotated his hand and teased her opening as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Rosamunde arched her back, head dropping along with her gaze. Those chestnut strands gleamed in the fire and lantern light in the room, tousled as if he’d already spent the night pleasuring her.
The primitive side of him longed to demand she watch him. See who was doing this to her, but he didn’t. Instead he slid one finger deep inside her, paused, then added a second. Much like he had in the tub, he pumped, twisted and turned them, making her thighs tremble. The velvet muscles rippled around him and he knew she was just about there.
His need to see her lose all control for him bit at his heels and without thought he dipped closer and sucked her clit into his mouth, flicked it with his tongue then nipped. She exploded around him, arching up, nearly dislodging him as she screamed his name to the room. He didn’t relent as she rode her release out and sagged back to the bed with a soft satisfied sigh.
Unwilling to stop yet, he continued his assault on her, but he did so with a gentle touch. Nearly petting. Helping her settle after the fall. Only when she had released his hair did he pull away from her, her essence on his face, her taste forever embedded in his soul.
This woman could very well be the death of him.
His dick hurt it was so hard but he ignored his discomfort and kissed his way back up her body until their lips once again tangled together. Then he pulled her to him.
“You didn’t find pleasure.” Her words were soft and he would have sworn he felt the heat from her face against his chest.