Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Every kiss feels so certain when everything else in my life is a total vacuum.
Lucas stills for just a moment.
He breaks that last slick kiss, his mouth red and wet, his eyes lit with hunger as he stares down at me.
That flinty green in his eyes is blazing, so intense, so captivating against the stark blackness of his hair framing his face.
One look flays me open and I finally understand exactly how he makes me feel.
Naked.
With one sharp glance, he strips me down before he’s even taken any of my clothes off—and I know that’s coming.
He bends, brushing his lips over mine, more questioning than before.
Last chance. Last fucking chance to turn back, Delilah, I feel him asking.
He’s giving me a choice and it’s like he doesn’t know I’ve already decided.
I’m trembling with the unexpected softness, the slow, careful way he traces the corner of my mouth.
When he turns wild, the whole world spins with one quick movement.
Before I can blink, I’m slammed against that brand-new desk like we mean to defile it.
Only for a second before he flips me around, bends me over it, pressing me down with my breasts against the cool cherrywood and my ass thrust up and waiting.
His hands are so deliciously cruel now.
I shudder.
“Peach fucking perfect,” he whispers. I don’t know what he means until his hands move lower.
His bestial strength drags my jeans down, baring my thighs, my ass in my little lace panties.
My ears bristle when I hear him inhale with furious approval. He inhales deeply like he’s caught my scent, a lion set to devour.
Oh, God.
His hand splays between my shoulder blades, and—oh fuck, I feel it coming like he’s radiating static force. But I’m still not ready for the exact moment when his fingers trace my panties, sliding lace against my skin, teasing my opening.
I’m so dead.
My already soaked skin becomes so slick, so sensitive.
With a soft moan, I’m squirming, trying to push back toward him.
I’m already begging, dragging my body against the desk like this. The cool wood teases me through my clothes and Lucas only makes it worse.
He strokes me slowly, hypnotically, with a slow insistence, each time working the fabric of my panties deeper against my flesh, into my folds, making me pulse and clench.
I couldn’t hold it in for a billion dollars.
I cry out, terribly aware that we’re still at school, and the door is hanging open.
This is absolutely not how I imagined starting this job.
Anyone could walk by right now and I don’t care.
Because when his thumb brushes my clit, desire erupts in a wild burst, a monster that grabs me by the throat and won’t let go.
“Lucas,” I hiss out, clawing the desk.
But I can’t get free, not before he’s good and done with me.
Not when he plays me like a fiddle, the pad of his thumb toying with my clit until it’s swollen, throbbing, starving.
I’m so wet for him it’s killing me, spilling down my inner thighs, making a mess of myself for this man I hardly know and yet who seems to know my body like he’s already memorized it from a map.
I throw my head back and whimper, squirming with shame.
“Lucas, we have to—”
“Hush, Miss Lilah. Just breathe,” he whispers.
I obey.
It isn’t even a choice.
His hands move quickly, pelting me with rough pleasure.
His fingers work faster, pushing me to soaring pleasure in a few blinding seconds.
The relentless assault on my senses melts my worries into a mess of hot gasps and countless firm kisses on the back of my neck.
Every flick, every tease hits like an earthquake, tremors building and building until I’m biting the back of my hand for dear life.
His breathing grows more ragged, and mine becomes a mess of moans.
“Holy hell, don’t stop. Don’t stop, Lucas, I’m—”
The way his rhythm quickens on my clit tells me he knows.
He knows I’m right on the edge, and he’s about to throw me over.
When the tidal wave hits, it brings me down with a thousand tiny convulsions.
One fierce eruption of pleasure.
I come so hard I see stars and they’re all bright green.
It breaks me, and his fingers slow, pressing lightly against my panties while I ride his hand through the storm.
When the wave passes, I slump down on the desk in a panting mess—only to flinch as he touches me again.
It’s not that I don’t want him now.
I just don’t expect his touch so soon.
He’s barely said a word since we collided, but there’s a wordless language of Lucas Graves telling me how it is.
His low rumble whispers appreciation for the way I gasp, the way I shudder, the way I completely surrender.
His fingertips brush me so gently, sparking my nerves all over again.
A single fingertip hooks the fabric of my panties and sweeps them aside. Cool air kisses my wet flesh and I arch against his hand with a low whimper.