Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Geno pulled Amaranthe’s top over her head and tossed it away from them. She didn’t protest, but her body flushed a beautiful shade of rose, and her breathing turned ragged.
“My breasts are too small.”
“Who told you that?” he demanded. He lowered his mouth to her chin and then nibbled his way to her throat. “Your breasts are perfect.” As far as he was concerned, they were.
He kissed his way to the top of the slight curves, the heavy shadow on his jaw sliding over her tender skin leaving behind his mark on her. Very gently he lapped at her right breast and then stroked her nipple with his tongue. She circled his head with her arms, her breath hitching, her body sliding against his restlessly.
“Geno.” She whispered his name, an ache in her voice.
He tugged very gently on her nipple with his teeth before drawing the small, very sensitive breast into the heat of his mouth. He gently pinched her left nipple and then kneaded and rubbed her breast while he suckled strongly, using his tongue to flick and play.
He felt her body’s response, the flush of heat from breast to core, her skin growing hot until she seemed a living flame. An electrical charge zapped down his spine and over his body to hers.
“I’m getting rid of the panties, Amara,” he warned her, sliding his hand down her flat belly. Taking his time. Savoring the feel of the muscles under her satin skin and the way she made a slight strangled sound in the back of her throat. Her eyes went wide in a kind of shocked daze.
He waited a heartbeat. Two. He didn’t want her to panic. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Danzatrice Ombra,” he coaxed while he drew the little boy shorts down her dancer’s legs one-handed.
“Hot. Like I have a terrible fever, burning from the inside out,” she answered instantly. Honestly. “I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s magical but frightening because I feel out of control. I’ve never been out of control.”
He kissed her again, not only because he wanted the taste of her in his mouth, but to erase the wild panic welling up in her eyes. He wanted only pleasure there. Desire.
Lifting his head, he kissed and nibbled his way to her belly button. “You aren’t supposed to be in control, Amara.”
“I feel like you’re taking me over,” she whispered.
He liked that. He claimed her with his mouth and hands. Gently. Tenderly. Not forcefully when there was a part of him that felt like a caveman wanting to make her his own cavewoman.
“If I am, Danzatrice Ombra, that’s only fair. You took me over almost from the moment we touched minds. You’re wound so tight inside me, I know you’re there to stay, and I’m good with it. I want to belong to you.”
Once more he kissed his way to her breasts, noting how sensitive she was. He licked at her nipples, flicked with his fingers, tugged and rolled before drawing one breast into the heat of his mouth. Instantly, she cradled his head to her while he suckled first one small mound and then the other, seducing her with his mouth, teeth and tongue.
Amaranthe reacted with a breathy little moan when his tongue flicked and his teeth tugged. He moved lower, tracing her small rib cage and then her stomach, familiarizing himself with the shape of her body. He nuzzled the indentation along her hips and then moved back to her intriguing little belly button, swirling his tongue there.
“You should wear a chain of diamonds around your hips and dance for me,” he murmured against her bare skin. “I’ll have to get you one.”
One hand slid between her legs to feel her damp heat. Her legs shifted. Moved restlessly.
“You’ve got my body coiling tighter and tighter like a spring,” she hissed. “I swear, I’m going to burst into flames.”
He lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes so he could smile at her. “That’s the idea, my beautiful dancer. We’re going to burn together. Would you dance for me in a chain of diamonds?”
Very gently he parted her legs, listening to the little hitch in her breathing. He loved that rush of sound—like music to accompany the gathering storm outside their bedroom wall.
He waited for her answer, breathing a steady stream of warm air against her damp entrance, manfully ignoring his need to devour her. She was so tempting, laid out for him like a feast. The rain began to fall, the wind pushing the drops hard against the thick wall of glass, so that it sounded like musical instruments playing along with her little moans.
“Baby, are you going to answer me?”
She swallowed down another gasp, her fists in his hair. “Diamonds seem a little excessive, but anytime you want me to dance for you, I will.”