Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
“You just need to look at me,” he murmured, nuzzling in between my breasts. “You just need to smile.” His hand snaked down my navel, toying with the waistband of my panties.
“You just need to blush.” He trailed his finger over the lace of my panties, where my clit was swollen, desperate.
The light contact was torturous.
Beau’s hands went to my thighs, spreading them before he grasped a pillow to prop up my hips. He settled himself between my legs as I propped up on my elbows, glass of champagne in my hand, watching him.
His eyes were locked with mine, swiping his plump bottom lip with his tongue. “You do not need fancy lace to make me want you, Hannah. You just need to fucking exist.”
Slowly, he peeled off the panties. I lifted my hips to help him.
Instead of throwing them away, he lifted them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
My neck heated with a blush so intense that I wanted to snap my legs closed and rub my thighs together just for the sake of friction.
Instead, I clutched my cool champagne glass for dear life.
“In saying that,” he continued, depositing the panties beside him. “I’ll be buying you more. You can thank Cole for his service but inform him that no one buys my woman underwear but me.”
Before I could say anything about that statement, he spread me wider and dove in.
The contact was explosive. Champagne sloshed from the glass onto my skin, but I barely noticed.
My orgasm overcame me within seconds. I couldn’t hold out. Not after all the buildup. The release was mind-blowing, world-bending, and never-ending.
Beau didn’t stop when I came down from the first orgasm. He’d merely paused for a second, looking up at me, lips glistening. “Drink your champagne, baby.”
While he watched, I lifted the glass to my lips. The effort it took was surprising; my limbs were lead. But I managed it. Bubbles and flavor erupted on my tongue, as it ran down my throat, and met the warmth in my stomach from my orgasm.
Beau didn’t wait to return to what he was doing, his beard scratching at my inner thighs, his mouth creating pleasure I didn’t know existed.
For the first time, I let myself get truly lost in Beau Shaw, knowing I’d never completely return.
twenty-six
HANNAH
Half the bottle of champagne was still full. I drank my share. As did Beau.
Which had surprised me.
“I didn’t take you for a man who enjoyed the finer things,” I teased.
He looked at me pointedly. “I like the finest of things. And I’ll drink champagne only when the taste is mixed with the flavor of my woman’s pussy.”
I reveled in response to the casual way he spoke, even as my hips instinctually tightened, reverting to the fight-or-flight mode I’d been in my whole life. I’d never truly relaxed. Most certainly not while in a man’s presence.
Beau noted the stiffness in my body, because he’d made it his mission to learn my body. Every inch of it. In the short time we’d been carnally acquainted, he’d become an expert.
I was impressed by his stamina, given he was much older than me—as he liked to remind me—and it was obvious he hadn’t used any pharmaceutical aids to come three times in the space of a few hours.
I was worn out. It was the wee hours of the morning, so we should’ve been sleeping. But we were still here, tangled up in each other’s bodies, sipping expensive champagne. I’d planned on having sensible conversations that night, not multiple orgasms.
Not that I was complaining.
But my worries were unable to be quieted, even after the best orgasms of my life, even under the influence of the most expensive champagne I’d ever consumed.
Beau’s eyebrows bunched, and his arms flexed around me when he sensed my mood change. He didn’t speak, though. Didn’t ask questions. He waited. Patiently. For me to decide to say something, for me to find the words.
“This is very hard for me,” I eventually admitted.
Beau traced the line of my collarbone. He was seemingly obsessed with the space around my shoulder blades. Which I certainly didn’t mind. I loved his constant touch. But it seemed like a benign area to be so fascinated by when the obvious choices were so close.
“How easy this is,” I clarified. “You’re giving me all I could ever want from you. More than I could ever want. Like the perfect boyfriend embodied.” I winced at how cheesy I sounded, how young. Inexperienced.
“I’m not perfect, Hannah.” Beau’s tone was harsh. “I’ve been so far from perfect with you it’s a fucking joke. You know that better than anyone.”
He delicately held my chin, tilting it upward so I could meet his gaze. “Honestly, I’m trying to be on my best behavior. I’ve been the worst version of myself to you, yet you still want me. I want to prove to you that I’ll treat you with the respect you deserve. I want Clara to see that the woman she loves is also cherished by her father.”