Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
The pause stretched—unbearable, electric.
Then, finally, his control snapped.
His hands moved.
Slid up.
Covered my breasts.
His touch wasn’t urgent. But not tentative either. Just sure—warm palms, steady pressure, and everything inside me started to tilt.
I swore I could feel him everywhere at once, the need a current coursing across every inch of skin.
My breath stumbled as his thumbs teased around my nipples, and I couldn’t quiet the sound that escaped my throat.
He circled, flicked, rolled until my hips were rocking restlessly and my moans filled the quiet room.
Only then did he knife up, turn, and roll me under him on the mattress.
But he wasn’t done teasing, exploring.
His lips and tongue worked down my throat.
The closeness was overwhelming in the best way—his heat bleeding into mine, the solid reassurance of him pressed near enough that I couldn’t tell where my breath ended and his began.
His hair teased over my sensitive skin, lighting little fires with each brush as his face settled between my breasts, breathing me in, then shifted to the side and sucked my nipple into his mouth.
A ragged cry escaped me as I arched up into his mouth; my hand slapped down on the back of his neck, holding him to me. But he had no intention of pulling away.
He tasted, circled, sucked, and nipped until I was panting, until I was writhing against him. Then he moved across my chest and made the need rise all the more.
My hands moved without planning—curled into the fabric of his jacket, pulled, tugged, chasing his warmth, the feel of him against me.
But he wouldn’t pull away to let me push the fabric from his shoulders.
He just pressed a kiss between my breasts and kept moving down, down.
Every inch he kissed felt louder then, places that never asked for attention suddenly insisted on it, nerves lit up one by one.
I was too aware of my heartbeat. Of how fast it was going. Of how it seemed to echo everywhere.
My thoughts scattered, no longer lining up neatly.
They arrived in fragments—heat, ache, yes, that.
His lips pressed to the triangle above my sex as his hands pulled my panties down.
Then his head tilted up ever so slightly, his gaze found mine, my own hunger reflected in his eyes.
I sucked in a steadying breath, my body knowing exactly what was coming next, and trying to prepare for it.
But then his head ducked again.
His tongue found the core of me.
And any thought of being prepared for the sensation felt laughable.
His tongue sparked a million little fires as time itself warped, coming slowly, then all at once, moments lost forever in sensation, in heat, in longing and pleasure.
His tongue found the core of me, and a tight coil formed deep in my stomach.
Harrison’s hands curled around my thighs, fingers digging in—firm, possessive.
And he just continued to tease his tongue over me.
My body tightened; sensitivity sharpened.
Every muscle tensed.
My thighs fought the hold of his hands.
All the while, his tongue circled, circled, circled.
The moment hovered on the edge.
Then went crashing over, taking me with it, my cries filling the room.
Pleasure washed over me over and over.
In the aftermath, I was shaky and tingling as Harrison released me and kissed his way back up my stomach, my chest, and finally, my neck.
This time, when I tugged at his jacket, he let me push it off his shoulders.
My greedy hands worked his buttons free next as his tongue and teeth grazed the shell of my ear.
I was desperate for the feel of him, dragging his chest to mine after the shirt fell away. A whimper escaped me at the press of him.
He groaned at the feel of my breasts beneath him as my hands trailed down his back, up his sides, then reached between us, palming his length through his slacks.
His hips bucked instinctively, aching for more.
I worked his belt loose, then his button and zipper free, before reaching inside to touch him without the barrier.
His curse tangled with my needy moan when my hand closed around his length and stroked.
His breath hitched as my finger stroked across the tip of him before slipping back down.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his breath on my ear.
A whimper escaped me.
But he needed the words.
I pushed down his pants and pulled him against me, his length against my cleft.
“I want you inside me,” I said, my lips on his ear.
His body shook at my words as he rocked against me. Once. Twice. Three times.
Until I was moaning and writhing.
Only then did he pull back.
The cool air washed across my overheated skin as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet, then inside that for protection.
His heated gaze was on mine as he made quick work of the task before coming over me.
My skin felt like gasoline, his body the match.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re making it hard to keep control,” he said, teeth nipping my lower lip.