Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I lock my arms around his neck again and draw him closer, heat rising to my cheeks. “Why do you always do that?”
“Because it turns me on.”
The answer is straightforward and honest. There’s never been a place for lies in our bed, no matter where we happened to make that bed. Sometimes, it was on a blanket on the beach. At other times, it was the comfortable mattress of a king-sized bed scattered with rose petals in a fancy guesthouse.
There’s never been lies between us. Point.
Or has there been?
The sharpened point of doubt pierces my heart.
“Dante.”
He pushes one bent knee back, opening me up more. The hard, searing promise of earlier becomes a solid pressure where I’m split open, waiting, vulnerable and exposed. His perfect face is a mask of concentration as he slowly drives his hips down until a smooth, thick intrusion parts my folds.
I cry out with pleasure, almost forgetting what I was going to say. He reaches for my wrists where my fingers are intertwined at his nape and gently pulls my hands apart before pushing them palms-up on the mattress above my head. His gaze bores into mine as he takes me deeper, sinking another inch into me.
That shard of glass in my heart compels me to speak. “Where have you been?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He kisses my lips, slipping his tongue between them. I taste myself in the kiss, the climax he’s so generously given me, as well as the lie.
Because it does matter. That’s why he’s inside me now. He always takes me with delirious need and maddening kisses when he has a lot going on in his head, whether that be work or other problems.
I arch my back as he closes the last distance, claiming everything I have to offer with a single thrust.
As he starts to move, he studies my face like a dying man looking upon rain in the desert, obliterating my words. Every punch of his hips steals my breath, coaxing the air to leave my lungs with a gasp.
He keeps a leisurely rhythm. He’s not going to rush this. Diving for my mouth, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. The nip stings, sending more heat to my core.
I curl my fingers around the big hands pinning mine to the bed, following the dance he leads with his hips. “Were you in danger?”
The scorching heat of the fire in his gaze softens to the hazy glow of smoldering embers, but then he changes his angle and hits a spot that makes my toes curl.
“Don’t worry about me.” He rolls his hips, giving me his dimpled smile. “I can take care of myself.”
“How can I not worry if I don’t know where you are?”
The playful light in his eyes vanishes, leaving him open for me to read. The man behind the civilized veneer appears, the lethal, unfairly attractive male with sharp intelligence who hypnotizes its prey with a disarming smile even as he plunges the blade all the way to the bone.
An involuntary shiver ripples through me. “Dante.”
“I’m here now.” He picks up his pace, keeping me trapped beneath him. “That’s what matters.”
Oh, God. Yes. That’s all that matters as I wrap my legs around his hips, trying to draw him deeper.
He claims my lips again, robbing me of all thoughts with a kiss that I feel in the cold places of my heart and the empty spaces of my soul.
As if sensing the exact moment of my surrender, he lets my wrists go and holds himself up on one arm while slipping his free hand between our bodies to press a thumb on my oversensitive clit. He runs the calloused pad in circles over my swollen flesh as he ups his rhythm and deepens his strokes.
We go over together, lost in a daze of lust and the sweetness of the moment. And I want to believe that this is all that matters—that he’s here with me, in my arms. Inside me. Riding out his pleasure. That forgotten memories don’t count.
Not ready to let him go, I keep my ankles locked behind his ass. He used a condom because his cum isn’t leaking down my thighs. I can smell the faint scent of the lubricated rubber. He must’ve rolled it on before he’d gotten into bed. Knowing that he knew exactly what he was planning when he fitted that condom before slipping between the sheets sends a wave of satisfying heat to my belly.
He wanted me. He still desires me. He thought about me when he came home. Maybe he imagined how he wanted to wake me up while he was still on his way.
Staying inside me, he rolls us over so that I’m lying on his chest. The gesture is sweet. He wants to maintain our contact but is making sure he doesn’t crush me under his weight.