Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
The pull I feel to Isabella is strong. What is it about her?
At the bedroom door, I reach for the knob.
She stops me with a touch. “Are you sure?”
Her concern surprises me. I might be fucking her, but I’ll heap unforgettable pleasure on her all night. It’s the least I can give her before I drop the hammer and shit gets real. “I’m more sure about this than I’ve been about anything in a long time.”
She smiles shyly and drops her gaze.
Fuck, those signals she’s giving me… Douglas Shay’s daughter has a submissive streak—something my ex-wife didn’t have an iota of. I already wanted Isabella. She’s gorgeous. But now? Nothing will stop me from taking her.
I shove open my bedroom door and urge her into the dark, broken only by the moon beaming through the window. Beside the bed, she faces me with a shiver.
Before I can stop myself, my hands are on her, one curling around her nape. The other grips her hip possessively. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m nervous. I don’t know what you want or expect. Usually, I sucked my ex for a minute. Then I’d lie back while he grabbed a condom and—” She winces. “You’re scowling. That’s too much information, isn’t it? Sorry.”
“You’re fine.” But I’m annoyed. Not only is her ex a cheating douchebag, but he’s apparently selfish, too. Unless… “Do you not like foreplay?”
The flush on her cheeks deepens. “I do, but I know men don’t, so…”
So she was willing to do without it because the asshole she used to fuck was too impatient to make her feel good? “Maybe he didn’t, but I love it—especially making a woman come. Did he get you off?”
Isabella squirms. “I think he did. Sometimes.”
But she isn’t sure? “If you only ‘think’ he did, baby girl, he didn’t. Whatever you believed or expected about sex, forget it. I’m here, I’m in charge, and tonight will be different.”
“Okay.” Her voice shakes.
“Good. Now take off your dress. Everything underneath?” I grin. “I want to strip that off myself.”
Isabella
OMG, is this for real?
I swallow and stare at the stranger. He’s awfully confident in his abilities, but why shouldn’t he be? He’s hot, and his kiss says he knows what he’s doing. Everything about him is sexy, even his bossiness.
Still…he wants me to strip down to my underwear and stand nearly naked in front of him? I was already shaking with nerves. His touch rattles me even more. God, I hope he doesn’t think I suck in bed.
“Baby girl, do I need to repeat myself?”
The command, coupled with the hint of threat in his deep-timbred voice, should terrify me. Instead, my pussy clenches. I press my thighs together to relieve the building ache, but it’s hopeless. My panties are drenched.
The way he looks at me, I swear he knows it.
“No,” I breathe.
“Then why are you still wearing your dress?”
“I-I have a zipper.”
“Turn.”
I don’t even stop to think; I just comply, bowing my head. The stranger doesn’t immediately pull the tab. Instead, he caresses my exposed shoulders, his touch a whisper over my goose-pimpled skin. Involuntarily, I shiver.
“So responsive,” he murmurs in my ear.
Am I? Not according to Eric.
I swallow. “Do you like responsive?”
“I expect it. If you hold back your reactions, I’ll withhold orgasms. Are we clear?”
That answer should annoy me. Who is he to tell me when I can and can’t come? Instead, I’m turned on. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hmm, there’s my polite girl again,” he says in smug delight. “We’re going to get along well.”
He begins lowering my zipper. The quiet hiss in the otherwise silent room makes me achingly aware that I’m about to get naked for a stranger whose name I don’t even know.
The red velvet sheath gapes open. Slowly, he pushes the lone spaghetti strap of the asymmetrical dress off my shoulder. He doesn’t have to ask me to lift my arm free; I yield to his unspoken wish.
Moments later, the garment sags, clinging to my hips. He pushes it down my thighs, leaving me in nothing but too-tall stilettos and the Christmas thong Jen insisted I need.
“Hmm.” He caresses my ass. “Step out.”
I do, leaving the safety of my dress puddled on the floor. As I turn to face him, he flips on the bedside lamp. A golden glow illuminates the manly bedroom of grays and wood tones. He turns his dark eyes on me, his stare lingering on my mouth and breasts before stopping between my legs.
He smiles. “That’s subtle.”
I glance down at the black thong Jen gave me. The front is emblazoned with mistletoe bound by a bright red bow. My bestie teased that, if I wore these underwear, maybe I’d finally find a guy who would kiss my pussy. “A friend gave me these as a joke.”
“A guy friend?” He almost sounds…jealous.
I shake my head. “My bestie, Jen.”