Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Worthy of every single compliment and flattery I’ve heard about you before the masquerade. I said I wanted to see for myself, but I never mentioned—you smashed every single fucking expectation I’ve ever had.”
I blinked away the tears, touching his face everywhere, claiming him somehow by doing so. “Please make love to me.”
Not sex.
Not fuck.
Not screw.
Love, love, love.
Make love to me, my heart silently begged. He kissed my lips, moving his mouth to my nipples and suckling on one of them, applying gradual pressure with his teeth and tongue.
He teased and sucked on my tits, then traced my folds with his fingers, borrowing my wetness and using it to circle my nub in delicious rounds of pleasure.
“Just, please, do it already,” I whimpered, my fingers running through his dark hair as he kissed and leisurely licked the inside of my thighs and the sensitive place between them. “I need you inside me.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain.”
“Yes, you can. You’re just afraid to.”
Wolfe Keaton was a kiss thief, but it wasn’t only a kiss that he stole. He stole my heart, too. Ripped it from my chest and put it in his pocket. I did what he promised me I would do, and willingly—I spread my legs and begged him, once again, this time meaning every word. “Because you were right. You said I’d come to your bed willingly—and I am. So, take me.”
He kissed me dirty, biting down on my tender lower lip, that was still sore from the accident. “Still not the entire truth, but this’ll do.”
He rose on his forearms, reaching for his wallet and taking out a condom. I swallowed down my disappointment. He pulled back, scanning my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He was about to chuck my chin, before thinking the better of it and running his thumb along my jawline. “We’re past the point of lying to each other. Spill.”
My eyes drifted to the condom. “I just…I thought the first time—our real first time—would be more personal.” My face heated as I said that because I realized that I berated him for suggesting the exact same thing mere hours ago.
“Can you…?”
“I’ll finish out.” He shut me up with a kiss. “We won’t make a habit until you’re on the pill. Deal?”
I nodded.
He tossed the condom on the carpet, his eyes staring deep into mine as he eased into me. I involuntarily tensed, before he lowered himself to kiss my mouth.
“Relax for me.”
I took a deep breath, doing as I was told. Halfway through the penetration, it started to hurt, but in a very different way than last time. This time, it was a delicious pain as he stretched me from within, allowing me the time to accommodate his girth by kissing me in between. He showered me with words that gave me courage and strength. Words I believed with every piece of my soul.
“You’re as graceful as rain.”
“Beautiful as the starless Chicago sky on a sad, masquerade night.”
“You feel so good, Nemesis. I would drown in you and die if you don’t stop me.”
It was oceans away from the last time he commented about my tightness, which felt dirty and degrading. I clutched his shoulders, moaning softly and cradling him, my body slowly mirroring his until the discomfort was replaced by lusty, jerky rolls of my hips. I purred into his ear as he drove faster into me, bracing himself on his hands, determined not to touch my ribs and forehead. Not to hurt me. Then his thrusts became so deep and feral, I knew he was close. I sank my nails into the flesh of his back, feeling the climax rising within my belly, too. It was different than all the times he licked me. Deeper, more profound.
“Gonna come now, Nem.”
He was about to pull out when I clung to him for a fierce kiss, and I felt him emptying inside me. The warm, sticky, thick liquid filling me from the inside. We held onto each other for a long moment before he rolled off me. This time, there was no shame and distress. I didn’t look away. He didn’t cradle his face and wish he could crawl into a crack in the floor and die. Our heads were tilted toward one another, both of us on the carpet by the fire.
He chucked me under the chin.
“You finished inside.” I licked my lips.
He yawned and stretched at the same time, not looking particularly worried, and that worried me.
“I’m not taking another pill,” I said, shaking my head as I held my dress to my chest. “It’s not healthy.”
“Sweetheart.” His eyes crinkled as he looked at me. “As I said before, the dates don’t add up.”
“Screw the dates.”
“Can I screw you instead?”
I laughed. “Fine. I’m taking your word for it.”
“As you should.” He chucked my chin again.