Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“What is this?” she asked, running a fingertip along the pink ribbon decorating the box.
He mentally shook himself out of his lustful stupor. “This is the only thing I’m allowing you to wear while we’re in this suite,” he said, forcing his gaze back up to hers before he spun her around and fucked her right up against the bathroom counter like a goddamn caveman. “I’ve got a job to do this weekend, and I prefer easy access to your body, whenever I want it.”
“Okay.” A pink flush suffused her cheek. She was clearly aroused by his dominant attitude—and emboldened enough to skim her fingers along her cleavage, which caused her nipples to peak into hard, lickable points. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to join me in the bath?” she asked seductively.
He groaned and pressed a hand to his straining cock, which did nothing to ease his throbbing erection. “The offer is tempting, but you need to be fed and I’m going to order room service. Any requests?”
“No cravings yet,” she teased with a smile. “So surprise me.”
He nodded, needing to get hell out of there before he forgot his purpose of relaxing her for the difficult conversation ahead—one he intended to have before they focused the rest of the weekend on getting her pregnant. He dimmed the lighting in the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
While she enjoyed her bath, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and called room service and placed their dinner order. When he’d checked into the hotel earlier that day, he’d also purchased a few other add-on items to create a seductive ambiance for the evening, which included a few dozen roses and petals scattered around the living room and bedroom, tapered candles for their table out on the balcony, and a bottle of Dom Pérignon Vintage Rosé on ice.
Tripp didn’t consider himself an overly sentimental guy but by the time the waiter left the penthouse, there was a distinct, posh romantic vibe in the suite, like nothing he’d ever experienced or done for another woman. Which told him just how special Skye was to him. She deserved to be spoiled and treated like a queen . . . his queen, to be precise.
With everything in place, and not wanting their meals to get cold—even though their plates were beneath a silver cloche to keep their food warm—he started back to the bedroom to get Skye, just as she walked out. He came to an abrupt stop, as did his heart, before his pulse kicked back into gear again.
She looked stunning with her hair now down in soft waves, the lightest amount of make-up on her face, and her skin flushed from her bath. He’d purchased the pale gray chemise Skye was now wearing online and it had been wrapped in a box when he’d picked it up at the store a short while later, but seeing the silk chemise on her now was sexy as hell. The silk fabric slid across her skin sensuously with the slightest movement, and the slit at her left leg, along with the hand embroidered lace at her bodice and hem of the gown, added to the sensual allure of the lingerie.
He wondered if she was wearing panties, because he deliberately hadn’t bought the matching pair so she’d be naked beneath. It was a thought that was going to torture him all throughout dinner.
“You look fucking amazing,” he said, using the only words he could currently find in his vocabulary.
She blushed, as if those kind of compliments were rare, then glanced down at the plush gray fuzzy slippers on her feet and wriggled her toes in them, which made him grin.
“Thank you for the cozy and warm slippers,” she said, lifting her gaze to his, a smile on her lips. “I know they don’t really go with the lingerie you spent a small fortune on, but they make me happy.”
That’s all that really mattered to him. “Full disclosure, I did consider buying you a pair of those sexy kitten heels with marabou feathers, but I’m not an entirely impractical guy and wanted you to be comfortable for the weekend, too,” he said humorously. “And, I also remembered how easily your feet get cold indoors without slippers or socks on.”
She struck a cute pose. “Well, good choice, because socks would have completely ruined the outfit.”
He chuckled, even though he disagreed. She could have been wearing a burlap sack and she still would have turned him on. But he couldn’t deny that the nightgown was a helluva lot more enjoyable to look at.
“Come on, let’s get you fed,” he said, taking her hand in his and leading her out to the balcony.
The slight ambient sounds of New York City could be heard, even from this top floor, but it didn’t detract from the romantic atmosphere. The sun was starting to set, and while there was a slight breeze outside Tripp had turned the heat lamps on a short while ago to make sure she stayed warm. The table was small and intimate with rose petals and tapered candles. When she sat down on one side he removed the domes from their plates then settled into his chair across from her before pouring them each a glass of Dom Pérignon.