Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
My legs feel like velvet and raw sex as Micah strokes my thighs.
There’s something so alluring about this, him kneeling with his uniform dark against the pale-pink sheets of my bed and my own pale skin.
Yet he’s whiter still, all winter enchantment.
In the back of my mind, I still think of him as a little more than human. And what he does to me next definitely feels like black magic.
That crown of snowy hair dips down.
He uses his shoulders to nudge my legs apart, and then—oh God, it really hits me what he meant by taste me.
His tongue traces every fold of my pussy with a knowing touch, alternating so randomly I never know if I’ll be holding my breath or gasping in a rush every time he thrusts.
He paints mad, hypnotic circles on my skin, probing me until there’s no part of me he hasn’t licked completely.
I barely last a couple minutes.
Not when I’m so sensitive, so hot, and so starved.
Not when I’m still wrung out from the first time.
And it’s almost painful to come again this soon, but the pain is the sweetest kind.
I hardly realize I’ve got handfuls of his hair, tugging roughly.
I hardly realize I’m crushing my thighs around his head, digging my feet into his spine.
I hardly realize I’m barely even still on the bed, arched so taut my shoulders hardly touch the mattress, head thrown back, broken cries escaping my throat.
I can’t think.
I can only feel.
And Micah Ainsley makes me feel everything.
The second orgasm comes on harder than the first.
If the first O was a whiplash, the second is an avalanche, burying me until I’m a thrashing mess.
I can feel him in my depths, vibrating through me, turning my vision white.
For an instant, I’m pretty sure I’m gone—because when I come back, I’m struggling to breathe on a bed so hot it feels like a furnace.
Micah lifts his head, dragging his thumb across his gleaming red mouth with a satisfied smirk, so tense he looks like he’s about to snap.
“You good?” His voice could set the world on fire with the heat in it. “Not pushing too far?”
I shake my head quickly, if only because I can’t speak when I can’t breathe.
But it’s so different from an asthma attack.
It’s not my body failing me, but lifting me up.
For once, this tight ache in my chest feels just right instead of heralding panic.
After I catch my breath, I manage to talk.
“Not too far,” I whisper, even if the throbbing between my legs might disagree after two climaxes so close together. “What about you?” I ask.
And I can’t help how my eyes dip down.
There’s no missing the hard ridge of his cock against his blue slacks, tenting the fabric.
I don’t even need to see it to tell he’s huge.
Of course, he is.
And if I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a wet spot against the fabric.
Is he really that turned on? By me?
I’ve never felt more desirable as his slow, dark smile returns and carnivorous eyes rove over me.
I must look wrung out, shivering under him, already so well used.
“We’re getting there,” he growls. “Just want to make sure you’re keeping up.”
“Hey, I’m not that delicate.” I pout at him.
“Talia.”
And he’s hovering over me again—shrugging out of his shirt and the tight-stretched undershirt beneath, all dense muscle under white velvet.
His body cages mine, his hands cradling my face.
His fingers weave through my hair as he gazes down with skin-stripping silver eyes that could leave me in white-hot flames forever.
“Stop,” he growls. “Stop being defensive. Stop thinking I see you as something small and weak. I’m not coddling you, woman. I’m not sheltering you. I want you to feel good, and I want your body.” His lips press against my brow, a tenderness at odds with the blaze between us. “I couldn’t live with myself if I lost my mind in you and found out you didn’t enjoy it.”
I shiver.
There’s something searing in his voice, this subtle hint of real emotion. I’m so starved for it.
“It’s new,” I admit, leaning into him. His closeness is a comfort and a sweet, sexy torment. “But it’s a good new. I feel kinda wrecked, but I like it.”
“Just wait, sweet girl.” Another kiss brushes my forehead, then down the bridge of my nose before feathering over my lips. “I’m not even close to done with you yet.” He stops, though, going tense. He drops his head to rest his brow to mine, eyes closing as he curses. “…fuck. I don’t have any condoms.”
“Oh. I don’t either.” Disappointment sweeps through me—but then I catch a breath, biting my lip, touching his stark cheekbone. “Micah, I’m on the pill.”
It was just a formality when I never really dated.
My doctor said it would help with the steroids in my inhaler and the effect they have on my hormones, but it never really felt necessary before.