Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
He presses his lips to my ear. “Do you like being at my mercy?”
Oh yes, I think, beyond reason and my need for control in my life, I do, but there has always been this push and pull between me and Damion, challenges and games, that I cannot let go of, not just yet. Maybe not ever. It’s who we are. “Am I at your mercy?”
He laughs, low and soft, a sexy rumble I feel in every part of me, and his eyes meet mine, a punch of absolute unbridled lust sparks between us. The kind of lust we never dared, but the shackles are off and the years have been the longest foreplay in human history.
“You are at my mercy,” he assures me, “and we both know you like it, but it’s so like you, Alana Blue, to deny it.” As if proving his point, he scoops my backside, molding me to his erection and while I’m reveling in just how hard and hot he is next to me, he surprises me by giving my backside a fairly firm smack.
I gasp with the unexpected sting, the erotic invasion so unfamiliar but wickedly arousing, and already he’s kissing me, and oh God, it’s not just a kiss. He devours my mouth, and his tongue somehow manages to destroy me and turn me on, all the same. I’m dying with my need to touch him, aware of his rough fingers squeezing my backside, oh so aware. And when he tears his mouth from mine, I’m breathing heavy, my nipples tight balls of aching need, my sex dripping I’m so wet for him.
“I’m at your mercy, too, baby,” he says, his hand stroking over my hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve been at your mercy.”
“I somehow doubt that,” I whisper, thinking back to the past, to how much I wanted him to just kiss me, but he never did.
“You’re wrong, baby. So very wrong.”
He releases me to work the buttons of his shirt, and this time, I do not fight the moment. The sooner he’s undressed, the sooner he will touch me again, the sooner he will bury himself inside me and fuck me. And I’m not sure I have ever needed to be fucked quite as much as I do now. I want this man to love me and make love to me, but there is a dark, more primal side of him, I find exceedingly arousing.
Obviously as impatient as I am, he doesn’t bother with all the buttons, giving up halfway down, and pulling it over his head. He tosses it aside, and I don’t look away, finally I don’t have to look away and pretend I don’t desire every part of this man’s body. I don’t have to pretend I don’t want him with everything female in me.
He catches my jaw, stares down at me and when I think he might say something, he kisses me, a long hungry stroke of his tongue, before he tears his mouth from mine, and turns me to face the window. It’s right then that lightning streaks across the sky, a dramatic flame, lighting up the darkness, much like those moments in our past that ignited and then faded black. We’re together now, and the world should be sunshine and light, but every second, every touch, still feels so damn impossible, as if he could be ripped away from me at any moment.
Damion tugs the silk from my wrists and then my gown is over my head, leaving me naked for his viewing, and this idea doesn’t stir shyness in me as it would with another man. This is Damion, this is us, and I trust him in ways the past might demand otherwise, and yet somehow, that past is exactly why I give myself to him and do so freely. I am his. I have always been his and while there was a time when I fought that very idea, that time is not now.
As if testing these thoughts, he turns me to face him, his gaze stroking over my naked body, his gaze hooded, etched with hunger as he says, “You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t know how I kept my hands off of you.” He rotates me and sits me in the chair, and I don’t even think about moving, not when he’s sliding his pants and underwear down his legs.
A moment later, he’s masculine perfection personified, his lean muscular body eye candy to any woman, his cock thick and jutted forward, heavily veined with arousal. I want to touch him to kneel in front of him and take him in my mouth, and I never had such a thought in my life but while I’m contemplating what I might do to him, he kneels in front of me, his hands on my legs.