Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Leon is a man of contradictions. On the one hand, he offers me forgiveness, and on the other, he promises retribution. He won’t let me make the same mistake again. Still, I’m battling to wrap my mind around the fact that he forgave me. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that is for a man who doesn’t need anyone’s forgiveness.
With that charged promise hanging in the air between us, he wraps his hands around my waist and spins me around before walking me backward to the table. The atmosphere becomes charged with something other than redemption and threats, something my body recognizes when my ass hits a barrier. His eyes deepen to a rich, dark, ruby-brown as he swiftly lifts me onto the table, letting my legs dangle over the edge.
Holding my gaze, he tears his T-shirt from his jeans and pulls it over his head. “Lift up your skirt.”
It’s too easy. I sit quietly, watching as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. His urgency ignites a flame in my belly that spreads with languid heat to my core.
“Very well,” he says with narrowed eyes, shoving his jeans and briefs over his hips while kicking off his shoes. “If that’s how you want to play it.”
The words set my skin on fire in all the parts that matter. Anticipation builds like a slow hum in every one of my nerve endings as he undresses. I drop my gaze to his thick cock. I know how he feels inside me, but somehow, every time is like the first time. I can never grow used to the sensations he creates when he touches my body.
With his cock jutting out, he steps right between my legs. When I don’t spread them fast enough, he grips my knees and splits my thighs open. Fisting the hem of my skirt, he drags it slowly up to my waist until my thong is exposed. The thin silk barely hides my naked folds. He crumples the triangle in a fist, pulling up until the elastic that runs through my crease is stretched tightly. Using the elastic, he flicks it left and right over my clit with a few twists of his wrists.
Pleasure sparks under my skin, but I need it deeper. He pulls the elastic toward him, his wicked smile the only warning I get before he lets go. A sharp sting fires through my clit, making me gasp out loud.
“Take it off,” he says, rubbing away the lingering burn with the pad of his thumb.
I clamp my lips together, smothering a moan and grabbing his shoulders for balance, but I don’t take it off.
Grabbing the elastic that runs over my hip, he tugs hard. The fabric gives with a tear, the underwear falling away. He leans closer, trapping his cock in the vise of my legs as he fuses our mouths together in a desperate kiss. Feeling his naked skin against mine is almost too much. I barely resist the urge to tilt my hips and take him inside me. The friction alone as he rubs against me makes me moan into his mouth.
He tears his lips from mine, his heated gaze burning on mine as he orders, “Take off the dress.”
I don’t give him that either.
Satisfaction sparks with something dark in his eyes. Gripping my dress in the front, he tears it down the middle all the way to the skirt. He doesn’t stop until the edges fall apart, laying my body bare. Roughly, he pulls the cups of my bra down, letting the curves spill over the top.
He steps back to look at me, starting his visual evaluation at my breasts and ending it between my legs. He stares at my sex, taking his fill before fixing his gaze on my tattoo.
“You’re mine, Violet. All of you.”
I gasp again when he fastens his hands around my waist and yanks me forward.
“Stay,” he orders in a gruff tone, lowering his head between my thighs.
When he closes his lips around my clit, I lose the battle. My hips tilt involuntarily toward the electric sparks that pierce my skin. Too heavy to hold my own weight and too drunk on lust to focus, I lower my upper body on the table.
The warmth of his mouth disappears, the ecstasy coming to a brutal halt.
“I said stay,” he says, spanking me with his palm between my legs.
The fire increases tenfold. I utter a groan and cup my sex, but he takes my hand and moves it away. It doesn’t prevent me from fisting my free hand in his hair, trying to push his head back between my legs. He catches my other wrist too, holding both in one hand and pinning them above my head.
“Like this?” he asks, brushing a kiss over my ear.
He’s always been good at coaxing my fantasies out of me, because he’s a master at that, but now he’s seen my sketches. He knows what I think about when I make myself come.