Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
The fire he ignited so easily in my core bursts into flames as his lips caress their way down the column of my neck. Sucking and licking at my sensitive skin, drawing it into his mouth, and feasting on it. He singes a hot trail across my collarbone before nipping at the tops of my breasts. My chest rises and falls in rapid succession as his hands sweep along my sides before settling on the gentle swells. With a flick of his wrist, he tugs at the slinky material until one breast is bare to the warm night air that swirls around us.
A deep groan rumbles up from his throat as his mouth fastens on my nipple. Not once do I consider the possibility that someone could exit the club and spot us at the back of the parking lot.
How can I when Colton is attacking every single one of my senses?
I tilt my head toward the bright star-filled sky and allow the pleasure to crash over me like a tidal wave. Once he’s licked and sucked at one tiny bud, he pulls the material up and covers me before lowering the other side and showering it with the same ardent attention.
“I fucking love your tits.”
His words echo in my head.
This isn’t the first time he’s made the claim. Whenever he said it, I would laugh because my breasts are fairly non-existent. Wesley’s campus is overflowing with girls who are, well...overflowing in that department. But Colton never seemed to mind. When we were in bed together, he spent hours worshipping them. And I loved it. They might be small, but they’re incredibly sensitive and easily stimulated.
I have no idea how much time elapses before he lifts his mouth and slides the material back into place before popping to his feet and pressing against me.
“I’ve missed you, Lys.”
The deep rasp of his voice as he uses the nickname leaves me melting. It always has. But especially now with his hands all over my body.
“I’ve missed this,” he adds, his mouth descending. As he pushes into me, forcing me to flatten against the metal of the vehicle, my spine curves. Each vertebra bends under his strength. His fingers lock around my wrists before dragging them over my head and pinning them to the roof. I’m so cognizant of his thick erection digging into me. Of my breasts pressed beneath the steel of his chest. I’m overwhelmed by his masculine presence.
More than anything, I wish I didn’t revel in the dominance, but I do.
So much.
Just because I can be assertive and know what I want doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy submitting and made to feel as if I’ve been rendered powerless. To have my senses eclipsed by physical strength wielded in a manner that isn’t an attack but one that makes me feel emboldened by my own sexuality. It’s nothing more than an illusion. A trick of the imagination. It requires a man to walk a fine line, and Colton knows exactly how to do it.
And that, like everything else he does, is a major turn-on.
As much as I hate to admit it, there were too many nights since our breakup when I laid awake in my bed, unable to find sleep, as thoughts of him crashed unbidden through my head. The way he touched me. Stroking my flesh to life and sliding deep inside my heat until there was no other choice but to shudder with orgasm. Inevitably, my fingers would slip beneath the elastic band of my panties before caressing my lower lips and circling my clit until I was gasping out his name.
Every time I caved to the temptation, I told myself that it was because I would never feel Colton’s touch again. He was like a ghostly specter hovering over me, dredging up painful yet delicious memories, which is precisely why this feels more like a dream than anything else. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be chock-full of regrets and recriminations but tonight?
Tonight, I’m going to blot out common sense and enjoy this experience to the fullest.
By the time he pulls away to nip at my chin with sharp teeth, my lips feel bruised and swollen. As reluctant as I am to admit it, Jack’s kisses were nothing like this. They didn’t stir anything beneath the surface. They were a pleasant distraction I’d hoped would flourish into something more. As soon as that thought bursts into my brain, I force it away.
Jack is sweet, kind, and nice. He’s one of the most caring and considerate people I’ve ever met. We built a solid friendship before it grew into something more. And even then, when it turned romantic, I insisted on taking my time and easing into a relationship. But we never generated this kind of...
Combustible energy that feels like it has the potential to destroy everything in its path.