Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
You're playing with fire.
Getting back at the little witch with looks and innuendos was one thing.
Sinking his fingers around her breast and telling her exactly what he wanted was taking it one step too far; he was only punishing himself because he knew he couldn't have her. Sure, he could probably have her, but there was a goddamn pounding in his head that was warning him that once he'd had her, it would be far from simple to let her go. But hell, he couldn't seem to stop himself from making it worse. His damn hand was still wrapped around her breast, following the dictate of his cock, and his fucking mouth was on automatic pilot. "It's too late to scratch the question."
She blinked up at him; she was so close he could see the pulse pounding against the silky white column of her neck. Without taking his eyes from her, because he couldn't drag them away, he slid his hand from her breast and wrapped it around her throat, holding it there. He felt her pulse jump and quiver, saw her eyes close before opening again in panic. He felt his nostrils flare in response. Oh, yeah, he wanted to fuck her. He'd probably die if he couldn't. He would die, because he couldn't let himself have her.
He couldn't have her, but he couldn't stop from pressing against her throat, couldn't stop his mouth from falling to her ear. "Has anyone ever owned your body? Because that's how it would be between us." He bit her earlobe and sucked it into his mouth, savoring her taste, her scent, before continuing, "If you were mine, it would appear to the world as if you had a normal life, you might even feel as if your days were your own. But that would be an illusion; it wouldn't be just fucking with you and me. If you ever made the mistake of sleeping with me, it wouldn't be just sex. So, I'm warning you now. I'd own you. I'd own your body; I'd own your orgasms. I'd strip you naked, spread you wide and play with your body to my satisfaction before I'd ever let you experience release. Don't get me wrong, you wouldn't ever want to get away from me, but sweetheart, your life as you know it would be over. So before you ever let me sweet talk you into bed, understand that I'm just a little bit insane when it comes to you. It's the reason I've never put a move on you before, and it's the reason I'm going to let you slip away untouched tonight. I'm going to try my fucking best to stay away from you, but I don't know how long I'll be able to manage it. So if I come at you sometime in the future lying through my teeth and telling you it'll only be for fun, don't you fucking believe me. So, consider this the only warning you're going to get. I'm going to let you run from me tonight, but before you go, I have to taste you."
Damian slid away from her ear and fastened his mouth to her lips and took the kiss he needed to retain his sanity. Her lips were soft and trembling; he tried to be gentle but had no clue if he was succeeding. If this was the only kiss he would be allowed, he needed to make it count. He pushed inside; she tasted like the sweetest drug. He imagined kissing her between her thighs, putting his tongue there and tasting the magic he knew he'd find.
She mewled in his arms and his grasp became tighter. Her scent was sending a scorching need through his veins, his cock was hard, pulsing blood in a cadence that was screaming at him to pull her skirt up and rip her underwear aside. His abdominal muscles tightened in pure lust; she was everything he'd ever fantasized about. More. She was more. She was dragging oxygen into her lungs in rapid inhalations, and he felt a growl erupt from his throat at the same moment he shoved his hand up her skirt.
He found stockings. Thigh-high stockings that wouldn't impede him in the slightest. He pushed his tongue deep into the recesses of her mouth and then pulled it out again. "Want to fuck you." His words were guttural. He invaded her mouth again, as his hand found the tiny triangle that covered her feminine heat. Even through the thin layer of material, he could tell that she was completely slick and smooth. Waxed. Clean-shaven. It was so fucking erotic that he had to clench his muscles in order to retain control. He tried to keep his touch light and teasing because he refused to scare her, but he knew he was failing. It was taking everything he had to go slow, but he could feel the subtle tensing of her muscles and knew he had to be careful. He maneuvered her knees further apart, pulled the flimsy material away from the wet core he needed to sink into and positioned his middle finger at her entrance, ready to impale her. He lifted away from her mouth and watched the expression on her face, waiting for her to open her eyes.