Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 99285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
It was as if I was in a secluded area with him, that there weren’t a hundred people all around us. I was sweating even more, and it had nothing to do with the oppressive heat in the club and everything to do with the fierce rush of blood through my veins that heated my body and made the arousal a comfort that settled deep within my core.
I had to be drunker than what I’d thought, because I swore his eyes flashed red as he stared down at me. His expression was arrogant, the planes of his face sharp and almost brutal and hard in appearance. His hair was short and dark, so dark it was like spilled ink. His lips were full, the bottom one slightly bigger than the top, but set in a hard line.
In fact, his entire face was set that way. Hard. I didn’t have to know this man to realize he was powerful. He was dangerous. I didn’t have to understand him to know he always got what he wanted. It was this air of dominance that surrounded him, heavy and thick… suffocating.
He had my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my head back and to the side slightly. My eyes fluttered on their own as if to close, as if I had zero control over my body. I felt his lips right back at my pulse point, and my heart raced from the feel of his lips on my skin. And then a moan spilled from me when I felt the wet heat of his tongue sliding along my flesh.
This was so unlike me to just allow a man to touch me, to put his hands on me like this. But I felt like I was a slave to what was happening, as if I couldn’t stop myself, even if my life depended on it.
He pulled me back in for long seconds, but I kept my eyes closed, this tingling moving throughout my arms and legs, settling in my fingertips, and making my hands feel light, weightless almost. I swore I could hear his voice telling me to open them, to look at him, but I knew it was all in my head. The music was too heady, my pulse too heavy in my ears.
But I did open them regardless and looked into his red-tinged ones, then lowered my gaze to his mouth. His lips look redder, the color deeper, slightly wet in appearance. And when he dragged his tongue along his bottom lip, I could see that he licked something off, something that stained his pink tongue a ruby shade.
Before I could think of what was actually happening, of why I was allowing any of this, he was leaning closer to me, our breaths mingling together. I could hear this deep rumble coming from him, and I held my breath as I stared into his naturally red eyes, ones I tried telling myself were that shade because of the neon bar lights, or maybe because I'd had far too much to drink.
And when his lips gently brushed along mine, not a kiss but more of an embrace, a caress, I slowly let the breath I’d been holding out.
The stroke of his tongue along the seam of my lips was shocking, and I snapped my eyes wide, blinking a few times as if that would clear my head. There were dual flavors dancing along my taste buds, a rich and coppery one mingling with… watermelon?
I took a step back, and another, my hands shaking, my chest heaving as I started breathing faster and harder all of the sudden.
Now that I was a few feet from him, he seemed monstrous in height, his body so massive that I was nothing but a little doll before him.
We stared at each other for far too long to be considered innocent, and I had this instinct to go back to him, to press myself against his hard chest, to rest my head between his pectoral muscles. It sounded like the most natural thing to do. And I almost took a step toward him, even saw the way his eyes became impossibly darker, his expression hooded with heat as if he knew what I really wanted to do, because he wanted that too.
I should feel ashamed of my lack of control, but the memory of that sensation of being around him, of feeling his lips on my skin, his hands on my body, still coursed through me like a drug.
I felt high.
I felt someone grip my wrist and looked over my shoulder to see Sasha grinning at me, this glossy, red-rimmed look in her eyes—so much different than the way the giant’s looked. She was drunk, shouting something at me and gesturing over her shoulder to where Salvatore stood. I lifted my gaze to where he was but noticed his focus wasn’t on me or Sasha.