Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Please,” she says just as softly, and finally, after two long months, my other hand comes up and takes her face—her beautiful, beautiful face—and I lean in and kiss her lips. Her hands rest on my chest right over my heart as my tongue slips into her mouth. The kiss goes from soft to urgent to frantic in seconds. I bend and pick her up, carrying her in my arms, her legs falling over my arms. Our mouths never letting the other one go. When I get to her bed, I stand her up and slowly undress her, the satin dress falling to her feet, leaving her in front of me in just a pair of see-through panties that shred in my hands the minute I try to take them off.
“Make love to me,” she asks, pushing the jacket from my shoulders. Her fingers unbutton my shirt, and then finally when it opens, she pushes it off my shoulders, and I look at her.
“You haven’t been paying attention,” I tell her, and she looks at me. “I’ve been making love to you this whole time. Every single time I slid into you, I was making love to you.”
I pick her up and place her in the middle of the bed. After I finish undressing, I get on the bed with her, then turn around to get a condom, but her hand comes out and stops me. “Nothing,” she says softly. “Nothing between us.”
“Are you sure?” I ask her, and she just nods and opens her legs for me. “I want to do all those things, but I need to get into you,” I tell her, grabbing my cock and rubbing it up and down her slit with one hand on my cock, and with one hand by her head, I sink into her. My other arm goes to the other side of her head, and her mouth finds mine, and for the first time, she knows I made love to her.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vivienne
I feel little kisses on my shoulder, and it takes me a second to realize it’s not fake and I’m not dreaming. Last night wearing the dress I knew I would wear for a big milestone, I finally gave in to the fact I was in love with Mark.
When I turned around at the gala and saw Scott, my whole world felt like it was tilting on its axis. Hearing him call me amour just made my stomach sick. Looking at him, I wondered what I ever loved about him in the first place. His hands on my arms repulsed me so much, I was about to tell him to fuck off when I heard Mark and my heart sank. I don’t know what was worse about him catching me with Scott—the fact that I just realized what a douchebag Scott was or the fact that I was head over heels in love with Mark.
It happened so fast; everything felt as if it was all crumbling down, and then when I looked at Mark, he wouldn’t even look my way. During the whole car ride, I kept telling myself I would be okay.
It would be hard, and I would never be the same, but this feeling was so much worse than before. I could hardly breathe, I could hardly think, so I told him everything. If he was going to walk out on me, he was going to do it knowing the truth, the whole truth.
I have never been more afraid of anything in my life, but if he walked out on me, I wanted him to know that, in the end, what I felt for him was so much more than even I knew.
The little kisses sting just a bit, and I know that he just nipped me. “I know you’re faking,” he says. When he picks up my hips, I brace myself for him to bury himself inside me. The whole night, I couldn’t let him go for longer than an hour. I would fall asleep and then wake up, reaching for him. “Missed you,” he says just like he has said for the past fourteen hours.
“God, yes.” I close my eyes and just feel his hands on my hips as he thrusts into me over and over again. He collapses on me and brings us to the side. “I need a shower.”
“Hmm.” He agrees as he catches his breath. “Me, too.” He slowly slips out of me, and I get up and walk to the shower. Turning it on, I look at myself in the mirror. I have hickeys just about everywhere. Little red dots from his beard all around my mouth and neck. He comes in, and I just look at him. He stops beside me. “I love you,” he says and kisses my neck. Walking to the shower, he opens the door that has now filled with steam from the hot water. I follow him in, and he just sits on the bench and puts his head back. “I think we should take a bath,” he says.