Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“We have to,” I call out, but I can’t let him go. He feels so good, and I’m close.
He lets out a curse and stands, still holding me as he carries me back to my bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot. I’m not sure how he did that with his jeans halfway down, but, well, he is an athlete. We fall back on the edge of my bed and land with him on top of me between my legs. He tries to shove his jeans down, but they get tangled on his shoes and he finally has to sit up and toe them off while I giggle.
“Damn, this is turning into comedy hour,” he murmurs when he turns back to me.
“I like it.” We always laughed together.
He smiles, runs his hands down my body, and pushes up my bunched skirt. He bends down and licks the skin on my inner thigh. I arch up, needing him back inside me. “Hurry…”
“I got you. I know what you want.” He moves back up to me, spreads my legs apart more, and slides in to the hilt, going deep at this angle.
I tighten my legs around his hips, whimpering as my heels dig into him. He starts an agonizingly slow pace, his strokes sure and disciplined, coming all the way out and then back in.
“Harder,” I whisper.
“Patience, baby,” he growls down at me.
My lips press against his neck and when I suck that skin, he grunts, picking up his maddening pace just a little, his hips twisting as he grinds down inside me.
I hear Penelope opening the front door, calling my name, and I block it out, watching him move above me.
I tug at the hem of his T-shirt, and he pauses and helps me, whipping it off and tossing it on the floor. He undoes my bra and throws it over his shoulder, a little curve on his lips as he stares down at me.
“You like this?” I say, cupping my breasts and brushing my finger over a nipple.
His throat bobs. “You. I like you.”
My hands clasp his shoulders, caressing the skin I’ve missed so much. He shudders when he clutches me against him, my breasts against his chest.
His words are broken up in pieces when he speaks, each phrase in sync with his thrusts as he picks back up. “Charm…we never did it like this…on a bed…me, looking down at you. How good is this,” he groans.
“So good,” I pant out.
He scoots us up and moves to his knees, adjusting so he holds my hips up at the tops of his thighs. I can’t really move, and he does all the work, so…intent on me. Holding my gaze, his finger rubs my clit as he slides in and out, back to that slow pace, savoring me.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I say, my lips parted, arching up for more.
“In my dreams, we do this. We do this all the time—me fucking you slow until you’re begging to come.”
“I’m begging now.” I lean up on my elbows, wanting him closer, wanting his skin against mine.
He slides back in, unhurried and deep, a small smile on his lips. “That’s not begging. Those are just pretty words. I like actions. Show me you want to come.”
Show him? Oh, I can. I reach up, grab a handful of his hair, and pull his face to mine. I lick his lips, just a tiny sweep, and give him a nip there before pulling away and staring into his dark eyes. I push his hand off my core and touch myself.
“Charm,” he growls, his hands moving my legs up until they’re over his shoulders and he’s looming over me, and when he pumps inside me this time, it’s ferocious and hard and out of control.
He feels bigger, thicker as he pushes into me, and my hands fall to my sides as fire licks at me. Need rising. Escalating, higher and higher.
Sweat drips off his face, and he’s muttering nonsensical stuff I can’t make out, his gaze needy…and emotional as he stares down at me.
He’s everything. He’s everything I never knew I wanted. He’s perfection wrapped in a dark, deep lake, and I ache to swim in those waters, to discover his secrets and let him delve into mine.
My body quakes for release, my mind holding this picture of him in my head. I don’t want to forget his beautiful face—wanting me.
I don’t want to forget a thing.
I say his name when I come with a groan, my back lifting off the bed, my head twisting as I vibrate around him.
He puts his face in my neck and goes with me, his shoulders stiffening under my hands then quivering. He continues to pump in and out until we both slow down, our breaths loud in the quiet room.