Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
She tastes like sugar and alcohol, but beneath it is something sweeter, something unspoiled. Her hands press against my chest, and I brace my palm beside her head, pinning her with my body.
The elevator climbs, slow and steady, and I use every second. My tongue slides against hers. She arches into me, her curves soft against the rigid line of my suit. When I drag my mouth down her throat, her pulse jumps against my lips. I bite lightly, savoring the sound of her gasp, the way her nails dig into my chest through the fabric.
The elevator chimes, the doors sliding open onto the private hall of the penthouse floor. I pull back, catch her hand, and tug her after me. Her heels click against the marble as she hurries to keep up.
Inside the suite, the city spreads out beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, lights glittering against the Hudson. The room is polished, expensive, designed for indulgence. I barely pay attention to any of it.
I press her against the closed door before she can take any of it in. My mouth claims hers again, my hands already sliding up her thighs. She gasps into me, breathless, and I take advantage, devouring her.
“Take this off,” I order, my fingers tugging at the hem of her dress.
She hesitates for half a second, her wide eyes locked on mine. That hesitation heats my blood. Not because I fear refusal, but because I know she’ll still give in. They always do.
Her hands go to the straps of her dress, pulling them down, baring smooth skin. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in lace that clings to her curves. My cock strains against my slacks, and I don’t bother hiding it.
I strip off my jacket and shirt in swift motions, tossing them aside. Her eyes sweep over me, lingering on the breadth of my chest, the scars that map my ribs. There’s hunger there, but also something else. Curiosity, maybe.
I guide her to the bedroom and stop in the doorway.
“Naked on the bed,” I say, my voice a command.
She obeys, removing her bra and panties, then moving to the bed and arranging herself in a way that is impossibly tempting. I follow, unbuckling my belt and shoving my slacks down. Her eyes widen when I free myself, and satisfaction rolls through me.
I brace myself and climb on top of her, pressing her down beneath me. Her breath comes fast, her chest rising and falling as she looks up at me. For a moment, I study her. The flush in her cheeks, the way her pupils are blown wide with desire. She isn’t hesitant or shy. She wants this as much as I do, and I’m going to give her as much as she can take.
I kiss her again, hard, while my hand slides between her thighs. Her body arches against me, a broken sound escaping her lips as my fingers find her slick and ready. I stroke her slowly, deliberately, watching her unravel. She whimpers, clutching at my shoulders, trying to pull me closer.
“You like this?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous.
“Yes,” she gasps.
I position myself at her entrance and push into her with one sharp thrust. Her cry of pleasure fills the room, and I grit my teeth at the tight heat gripping me. She needs no time at all to adjust to my cock, which is just as well. I’m not a patient man.
My pace is hard and fast. Each thrust drives into her with relentless force. The headboard hits the wall in a steady rhythm as her nails claw at my back.
Her shallow cries turn into moans, breathy and desperate. I take her mouth again, swallowing every sound, claiming every gasp. Her pussy clenches around me, her body trembling as she comes apart beneath me.
The feel of her pulsing around my shaft tears the control from me, and with a final thrust, I spill into her, holding her down, claiming every inch of her.
For a long moment, the only sound is our ragged breathing and the faint hum of the city outside. I don’t move, braced above her, watching the way her chest heaves, the dazed look in her eyes.
I stay braced above her, my chest rising and falling, watching the way she struggles to catch her breath. Her dark hair spills across the white sheets, damp with sweat, her lips parted as if she still can’t believe what just happened.
Her eyes lock on mine, dazed, with a hard edge underneath, and I know what’s coming before she speaks.
“Will you tell me your name now?”
“Lev.” I let the single syllable fall from my mouth, clipped and final. I don’t give her my surname or any other information she can use for a quick Google search. This is the best way to keep some distance, to ensure no gold-diggers try to turn this into more than it was.