Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
He reaches for my left ankle, absently stroking it with his thumb. The light touch sends small zings of pleasure up my leg. “Then you’re not opposed to a guy going down on you?”
“God, no. I have zero opposition.”
“And you are, in fact, in support of it,” he offers.
“Yes. I love the idea,” I admit.
When he brushes his palms over my knees, then traces the space behind them, I shiver.
Have I ever shivered from that before? I’m not sure.
“But you don’t love the reality of it,” he says, his hand traveling farther up my thighs, drawing maddeningly light strokes on my skin.
My eyes close for a few seconds as I sink into the fizzy sensations. “I haven’t loved it. I want to, but I haven’t.”
I’m not sure why I’m comfortable telling Drew when he’s a stranger. But perhaps that’s why. Because our connection is sexual. Drew mentioned a next time, but there are no guarantees. There is only this time.
And if that’s all there is, then I want it to be amazing.
With a soft murmur, Drew nods, his hands dancing closer to my bikini bottoms. Then, he shifts directions and inches down my body, watching me as he goes. “Let’s make a deal.”
I laugh with anticipation. “What kind of deal?”
He slinks lower, reaching the end of the bed, and then runs those big, warm hands over my skin. He dips his face to my ankle, kissing me there.
I wriggle from the shot of bliss.
He doesn’t answer my question as he moves to my other ankle, dusts a gentle kiss there, then travels upward, kissing my calf, my shin, my knee.
I tremble.
He lavishes the same attention on my left leg, moving up my thighs.
“Ohhh,” I murmur as he caresses me with tender, open-mouthed kisses until he reaches my center.
Then, he looks up, looking pleased but not cocky. “So, here are my terms.”
“Right. Sure. What are they?”
“You let me keep trying this till you’re shouting my name,” he says.
Oh, fuck me.
I heat up all over. My core aches exquisitely.
“That sounds like a terrific offer,” I murmur.
“Good,” he says, then whip-fast, he tugs my bikini bottoms down, pushes up my dress, and settles between my thighs.
“Mmm,” he says gazing at me. “You have such a pretty pussy.”
His dirty mouth is such a rush. I love how that word sounds on his lips. How carnal.
Drew gazes at me like he’s trying to decide how he wants to go down on me, then he sinks between my thighs, slides his hands under my ass, and brings me to his mouth.
And wow.
I groan from the first contact. He’s moaning and he’s only just started. He’s French kissing me slowly and squeezing my ass tenderly, and I feel like dessert.
I thought I’d feel like a project. A problem to solve.
But Drew goes down on me like he wants to learn every detail of my body and catalog all of my wants, my needs.
My dirty desires.
They aren’t complicated. But they are rarely fulfilled.
I’ve grown accustomed to spectacular sex in my head, mediocre sex in my life.
But right now, with this man’s face between my legs, his mouth murmuring against my flesh?
Nothing is mediocre.
I melt into the bed as he kisses and licks. Then he stops for a second, looks up at me. His mouth glistens. His eyes sparkle. “Bet you’d like it more if you grabbed my hair,” he suggests, his eyes drifting to my hands by my sides.
Oh. Sheesh. I’m a piece of work. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with my hands,” I say, feeling a little foolish.
“I’ll show you what I like then. That work for you?” he asks.
Oh, God. Yes. No one has said that before. “Please,” I rush out.
He reaches for my hands, returns his mouth to my center, then curls my fingers around his head.
With a long, slow, tantalizing lick, he makes a show-don’t-tell case for spending the day between my thighs. Then, he says, “Grab my head hard. Run your fingers through my hair. Pull me close. Push me away. Do whatever the fuck you want.” With his eyes locked on mine, he lowers his voice more. “Use my face to get off.”
Holy fuck.
I sizzle from head to toe. No one has ever spoken to me like that. So direct, so dirty.
I tighten my grip around his head, then close my eyes. “Do that thing again. What you just did,” I whisper.
“Like this?” he asks seductively, then takes all the luxurious time in the world licking me.
Up, down, over and again.
I grip tighter, tug him closer. Only once does he break his pace to say, “That’s right, Brooke. Do whatever you want. Fuck my face like this,” he urges.
Tingles shoot up my legs and coil in my belly where a tight, hot pulse races faster, faster. And it feels so good, like I’m so close. I want to shout and cry. I want to give in to this moment.