Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
I do as he requests and as he gazes up at me, my heart slams against my chest. He’s gorgeous. The way his dark eyes fixate on my face. The way he licks his lips. I’m in agony, wanting his touch everywhere, but too shy to voice any of it.
“I like knowing you’re completely bare underneath your dress.”
I step between his legs and linger my knee along the knuckles of his right hand.
“You’re a tempting little thing,” he hisses out. “How badly do you want my touch?”
“So bad,” I whisper.
His eyes snap up to mine as his knuckles drift over the skin of my calf. He slowly, ever so softly, trails his hand up the inside of my thigh, making me shiver. The exploration continues until he’s sliding a finger through my wetness. “Ah, you’re so wet and ready for me. You’ve been imagining this very thing since we met, haven’t you?”
I moan when he teases my entrance, barely dipping in before gliding up to my clit. “Yes,” I pant out.
“Me too.” He pushes one digit deep inside me and I moan louder. “You’re so tight.” To my chagrin, the exquisite pleasure stops. He pulls his hand from under my dress and sucks his finger into his mouth. “I need to fully enjoy your pussy. Take off your dress.”
He’s still completely clothed in his jeans and black tee, with his club vest on, but I put my insecurities aside and slip the dress off one shoulder, and then the other, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle around my feet.
He leans back, both elbows on the bed, seeming to appreciate the view, and sucks in a ragged breath. “You’re so fucking stunning. Damn, how are you still single?”
I want to launch into all the particulars of why I am indeed single, but it’s most likely a rhetorical question on his part. The fact I am overthinking whether he expects an answer or not is a great example of one of the reasons I am living life solo.
Thankfully, he stops the debate in my head by dragging me onto the bed so my knees land on either side of his hips. He lies back and says, “I want this pussy riding my face.”
My eyes go wide at his dirty talk and the fact I’ve never sat on someone’s face. I’ve never even had a man go down on me, and what if I’m bad at it?
“Dakota,” he growls, “if you don’t hop on, I might combust.” And I believe him, based on the massive bulge in his jeans. It’s almost as if he needs me as badly as I need him. So I position myself over him, hovering over his handsome face.
“Do it, baby girl. Sit. I promise you’re going to love it.” And then he grips my thighs, pressing my center over his mouth.
The initial contact has my eyes rolling back in my head because it feels amazing. “Oh, god,” I cry out as he slides his tongue through my wetness.
Ruin sucks and licks, making sexy rumbling noises in his throat until a tingling sensation cascades over my body. I lean over, pressing my palms into the mattress above his head, needing to quench this ache deep in my core. My hips writhe against him as he uses his magic tongue in ways I never imagined. A white-hot heat scorches my belly and blinds my vision as waves of pleasure wash over me. My body vibrates, and he laps at my orgasm, groaning as I come on his face. I’ve never gotten off that quickly in my life, even with my own hands, and I blush when he lifts me off him.
“Damn, that was hot. We’re nowhere near done,” he says. “Your pussy is what wet dreams are made of.”
Before I can speak, he’s laid me back and captured my lips in a tantalizing kiss. A kiss so powerful I forget where I am until he breaks away to murmur, “I’m going to give you everything you want tonight.”
Disappointment replaces the euphoria, and I frown at the implication this is only for one night. Nothing more. There’ll be no finding forever in these four walls.
He rises and peels off his vest before removing his tee, revealing a powerful chest and abs carved from stone. My gaze lingers on the way his jeans sit low on his hips, revealing a delectable happy trail that disappears under the waistband, taunting me to discover where it ends.
“You like what you see, baby girl?”
I nod, loving his pet name for me. “Yes. You have so many tattoos.” I’m enamored by all the ink covering his skin.
A dragon wraps around his bicep.
A skull wearing a crown rules his chest.
A sword cuts down his forearm.
I could study the interesting designs all night long.
“Don’t worry, they won’t bite,” he says. “I might though.”