Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Morgan,” he growled when I reached for the hem of his shirt and slid my hands under it. I was met with smooth, soft, warm skin over tight, hard muscles. I gripped his waist and tugged, bringing him hard against me—oh, and he was. His arousal pressed into my stomach, and my hand wrapped around it through the fabric of his shorts.
Fire. I was on fire. My skin flushed, my breasts swelled, and my thighs dampened. He was a triple raspberry lemon drop, sweet on my tongue and going straight to my head, and I wanted more. I would always want more when it came to Jackson. Touching him had been a bad idea, but it felt so damn good.
“Fuck,” he groaned against my mouth as I stroked him. “Morgan, baby, you have to stop. You’re killing me.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I never wanted to stop. I wanted this moment to last forever—for there to be nothing beyond these walls that would rip us apart. I wanted an eternity in this little room with the man I couldn’t have outside it.
Jackson lifted me to the worktable, stepped between my thighs, and stole my thoughts with a deep, carnal kiss. He took control, slanting his head over mine and erasing the world with the stroke of his tongue and the rasp of his teeth. In this moment, I was his—we both knew it.
His hand slid under my sundress and bra to cup my breast. I moaned my approval and then gasped when he abandoned our kiss only to tease my neck, my throat, my collarbone.
I unsnapped, then unzipped his shorts so I could feel him—hard, hot, and smooth against my palm.
“Kitty,” he groaned, in part warning, part plea.
I pumped him in answer. I was done with the warnings. We were in the eye of the hurricane that had become our lives, and if this was the only moment we had, I was taking it.
His hands slid up my thighs and under my dress, lifting the hem to pool at my waist. Then he gripped my ass and yanked me forward, bringing us within one scrap of satin of what we both wanted. We locked eyes, and I nodded before his fingers slid under my panties and through the proof of my need.
“Fuck, you’re drenched.” His dick leaped in my hand.
I whimpered and rolled my hips, gripping the back of his neck, worried he’d think about what we were doing and stop. I led the head of his arousal to my cleft, and he hissed.
“You have no idea how badly I want you, but I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t exactly planning on this.” His forehead rested against mine, his breaths ragged.
“I’m on the pill. Please, Jackson.” I rolled my hips against his fingers, and he gave my clit a quick, hard flick of his thumb that made me clench him even tighter.
“Are you sure?” he asked, looking me straight in the eyes so I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what I was doing.
“Fuck me.” I couldn’t be any clearer than that.
He raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want to call it, I’ll let you believe that.” He dragged my panties down my legs and off, then tugged the waistband of his boxer briefs to just below his ass. Then he was at my entrance, throbbing and insistent, and his eyes were on mine, giving me one last out.
“This doesn’t change anything between us.” I hooked my ankles around the small of his back and took his face in my hands as I rocked my hips forward, taking him inside me slowly.
“Kitty, that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He gripped my hips and thrust forward, filling me completely.
He swallowed my moan with his mouth, kissing me deep as he moved within me with hard, powerful strokes that sent pleasure radiating through my limbs and wound it tight at my core. “You feel so fucking good,” he said against my lips, kissing me again when my whimpers became keening cries.
Our bodies strained as we moved together, both giving and taking, clinging and saying good-bye. My muscles tightened as the pleasure built to a peak, and I tried to fight it—to make this last as long as possible—but Jackson reached between us and stroked me exactly like I needed. He knew my body, my cues, my needs the same way I knew his.
I swirled my hips in time with his thrusts, and he groaned, our kiss breaking so we could breathe but our lips staying close enough to brush as we fought for air—for time. Everything within me tightened, drew back like an arrow, and as I felt him swell within me and his thrusts lost that steady rhythm that meant he was close, I kissed him again, pouring into it everything I felt but couldn’t say.