Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“You’ll stay.” The tenderness in his tone breaks my heart into a million pieces.
“You know I have to steal away like a thief during the night.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep you busy till morning,” he murmurs, taking my breasts in his hands. “My little teacup.” His words are shaped against my skin.
Is it called a pet name because it makes me want to curl into him?
“So delicate and curved.”
“Matt.” I make a moan of his name as his thumbs glide over my hardened nipples. A soft tug, and I gasp, my body jolting from his.
“And look how you fill my hands.”
“I feel like I’d fill a barrow,” I half scoff.
“Hush,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck. “How I feel when I look at you is fucking primal. I just want to pounce on you because you’re so fucking sexy. I’m sure I lose a little piece of my mind every time I so much as glance your way.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy for you. Turn around, darlin’.” His hands find my hips. “Turn around and let me see what I’ve been dreaming of. Fuck me.” His midnight gaze sweeps over me, bold, possessive, hungry.
“Well, now that we’re here . . .” My words hold a confidence I don’t really feel as I push away a glimpse of tomorrow. Of my regret.
“You can fuck me any day of the week, teacup.” His lips tip. “And twice on Sundays, if I’m good.”
“If you’re good?” I reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling it from the waist to hide how my hands shake.
“Oh, I’ll be good,” he says, reaching between his shoulder blades to pull it up and over his head. “I’ll be so good, you’ll weep.”
I know, I think as his lips brush a light tease across my own. I swallow his groan—eat it up—as my fingertips find their objective. Warm skin and muscle, his abs rippling in response to my touch. My fingers moving lower and pressing over the bulge in his pants.
“God, I want you, Ryan.” He gives a tiny sucking pull to my bottom lip. “I want you so much, I can barely see straight.”
“Yes, let’s . . .” I feel myself growing wet, my body aching for this. My heart aching for him.
Like the moves have been choregraphed, like I’m not the size of a hippo in La Perla panties and heels, Matt moves us across the room to the bed. Before I have the chance to sit, his body folds gracefully before me, his hands pressing to my bump as though in benediction.
A kiss to the center, so sweet, before his fingers loop my right ankle. One shoe. Two. My hands falling to his shoulders for balance. He sets them to the side and then hooks his thumbs into the elastic of my panties and slips them down my legs. I keep my hands where they are, my equilibrium still rocking.
Down on the bed, things moving faster now. My hands in his hair, his tongue hot and clever as it licks into my mouth. “Please, I need you.”
“I know, darlin’. God, I know.”
He parts my knees, the air on my pulsing clit almost too much. Too much and not enough as his attentions move to my breasts, and he engulfs my nipple with a soft groan.
“Oh, God!” I arch against him, moaning loudly as he licks and laves, as he uses his fingers to echo that tight pull.
“God, you’re so fucking lovely. And the sounds you make.”
“Touch me, please,” I beg, widening the space between my legs.
“Soon, teacup,” he whispers, canting his head to watch my reactions before he draws the pebbled bud back into his mouth. His gaze holds mine over the curve of my breast as he grazes gently with his teeth.
“That feels . . .” Immense. The wet velvet of his tongue, the threat of his teeth, and the teasing brush of his stubble make my nerve endings sing, makes me almost—
“Do you think you could come like this?”
—burst.
“I don’t . . .” I gasp as my insides throb. “I don’t want to find out.”
Matt gives a dark chuckle, and I cry out, my hips surging as he swipes his thumb between my legs. “Maybe not this time.” His words like pure appreciation. “Fuck, you are a feast for the senses.”
I open my eyes to find him watching where he teases. Where he plays. His thumb dipping lower, gathering my wetness to paint it across my clit.
“Dios.” His eyes burn bright as he brings it to his mouth and sucks on it. “Me encanta el sabor de tu coño. And I do love the taste of your pussy, teacup,” he whispers as he leans across me, dragging a pillow from the top of the bed to support the arch of my back. “Lie back now and let me taste a little more.”