Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
“I need to be inside you,” he growls near my ear, his breath warm on my neck, before his lips brush the sensitive area.
My body reacts to those words, my sex tightening, aching. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
I move, or he moves me, I don’t know which. I’m so damn aroused I can barely think straight. All I know is somehow, that condom gets where it needs to go, and so do I. He shifts my weight and presses into me. I pant as he enters me, stretching me, pushing deeper and deeper.
“Holy fuck, woman,” he murmurs, his voice low, nearly guttural, and he kisses me, fingers tangled roughly, erotically, in my hair. My hands are on his chest, my body arched over his, and when our lips part, our gazes collide, the impact stealing my breath. The air seems to thicken around us, the connection I’ve felt with this man on every one of our encounters, swelling between us, controlling me, and I think him as well. I see it in his eyes, his need, his passion for me. For us.
“Come here,” he orders, and I don’t really remember moving, but his hand is under my hair, around my neck, and our mouths collide in a kiss that feels different now, less about sex and more about emotion.
I feel this kiss in every part of my body, and those butterflies in my belly are back, but they don’t feel like nerves anymore. We begin to move together, a sexy sway and dance, our hands all over each other, and I can’t get close enough to him. I lose time. I lose the ability to worry or fear where this leads. I just want to drink him in, to inhale that spicy scent of his and taste him on my tongue. I don’t want it to end, but he cups my breast and pinches my nipple at the same time that his tongue strokes mine and his cock drives deep inside me. It’s done then. I can’t stop the white-hot fire he’s created or the orgasm that overtakes me.
I sink against him, my face buried in his neck as my body quakes, my sex clenching, pulling against him while he drives into me. He moans as my sex clamps down on him, a hand between my shoulder blades, molding me close. His big, powerful body shakes with release. Time is too fast, and too slow. I fade away, going deeper into the sensations rocking my body.
When, finally, I come back to the present, I feel him there with me, his body relaxing, mine with his, and against him. I’m numb, my limbs heavy, and Reese lays us on the couch, stroking hair from my face. “I’ll be right back,” he says, planting a tender, lingering kiss at my temple before departing. A moment later, the blanket is over me, but I’m still in the previous moment and that tender kiss. Of the many ways this man has affected me this night, that kiss, and even the blanket, affects me the most. I’ve barely had time to process these facts before he is back, condom-less, no doubt.
“The fireplace is on now,” he says, lying down next to me and pulling my back to his chest, my gaze landing on the flames that seem to somehow be inside the window directly across from me.
“I should go,” I murmur.
“I don’t want you to go,” Reese says, hand settling on my hip, his face in my shoulder, by my neck. “Stay, Cat.”
I know I should go. One and done and all. It’s the way you deal with men like Reese. Only he’s holding on to me really tightly. And my lashes are so very heavy.
Chapter fifteen
Cat
Amuffled ringing has me blinking my eyes open, immediately becoming aware of Reese’s big body wrapped around mine while the sound seems to be coming from somewhere on the floor. I blink again, sunlight beaming from around us. Reese is unmoving, completely knocked out. And just as good looking sound asleep as he is wide awake.
I know it’s the morning after, and goodbye should have been last night, but this is over, and I can’t help but touch him one last time. I reach up and trace his lips and then let the rough edges of his one-day stubble brush my skin. He blinks awake and I start to pull away, but he catches my hand. “Good morning,” he says, those blue eyes flecked with amber sunlight, his lips that I was just touching, brushing my knuckles. “How are you?” he asks.
“Better once the awkward morning after is over.”
He laughs. “There is no awkward morning after, Cat. There’s pancakes and coffee, and possibly, no, absolutely, more sex. And I can’t seem to find the awkwardness in any of that, can you?”