Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I hear the intensity in his voice and the sincerity in what he says, and I’m excited by the warning of violence that burns on every word.
“What are you saying?”
“I want to be your first.”
“But—”
He slams his mouth to mine and kisses the words from my lips.
He’s claiming me. It’s primal and possessive and so fucking sexy.
I look up at him, my heart pounding and every inch of me wanting him. All of him. Kissing me. Fucking me. Breaking me.
“I finish in an hour,” I say, kiss drunk.
“I’ll be waiting.”
When he claims my mouth again, it’s not gentle or sweet or full of loving promises, it’s demanding and fierce and starving.
When he releases me, my body is on fire, and I wonder how the hell I’m going to make it through the next hour.
“What changed your mind?” I ask as he walks toward the pantry door.
He turns back and his eyes are full of darkness.
“Because the thought of someone else doing it makes me want to burn down the entire fucking world.”
CHAPTER 41
Ella
Sixty-two minutes later, I knock on Lars’s bedroom door, and when he opens it, my heart almost leaps out of my chest. Because for the last sixty-two minutes, all I’ve been able to think about is what is going to happen in this room.
He’s fully dressed, but he smells soapy and fresh like he’s just showered.
“Hi,” I say nervously.
He smiles, and it’s warm and sexy, and I can barely contain my nerves.
But he shatters my nervousness by pulling me to him and kissing me roughly as he closes the door behind us.
When he lets me go, my heart is beating like a drum. He places a hand on my chest to feel it beat against his palm. “You’re safe.”
I’m not naïve, I know Lars would be capable of inflicting great pain, and I have no illusion that he doesn’t do that for the club. But it’s crazy because I feel nothing but safe when I am with him. I think he’d cut off his own hands before he’d ever hurt a woman.
He takes my hand and places it on his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. It’s racing as quickly as mine. “This is what you do to me when I’m around you.”
“But it’s not nerves,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s because being around you excites me.”
He bites his lower lip and looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. He is a walking contradiction. Frightening and dangerous, but with a touch that feels safe and tender and so damn addictive.
“I’m going to take off your clothes now,” he says.
He reaches for my T-shirt and lifts it over my head and discards it on the floor. I try to cover myself with my arms, but he gently guides them down to my sides. “I want to see all of you. Every perfect inch.”
He undoes the button on my shorts, and I tremble as he lowers the zipper. This is the most exciting and terrifying moment of my life. He guides my shorts down my legs and helps me step out of them, so I am left in nothing but my bra and panties.
His eyes skim over my body with a seriousness I’ve never seen.
“Now it’s your turn,” he says. “Take off my clothes, Ella.”
I swallow thickly, because my mouth is suddenly dry, and reach for the hem of his T-shirt and lift it over his head. He helps me, because I’m not tall enough, and then lets the shirt fall to the floor. His muscular chest is nothing short of magnificent, every inch of his skin covered in ink.
“Now my belt.”
He wears a black belt with a silver buckle, and my fingers tremble as I undo it and pull it through the loops of his jeans.
“Lower the zipper, Ella.”
I’ve never undressed a man before. Never felt the excited heat radiating off such a powerful body. My body throbs with excitement and anticipation as I release the top button and lower his zipper and push down his jeans.
Left in nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs, I see the thick outline of his cock in the front of them and feel the moisture pool between my legs.
His knuckles are gentle as they slide up my arms, and when he reaches my face, he cups my jaw, his eyes intense. He bends his head and kisses me tenderly, and I melt into him.
“Touch me,” he says against my lips.
When I hesitate, he takes my hand and guides it to the front of his boxer briefs.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he whispers.
And I’m not.
I’ve felt him before. In the library on the first night we met.
But this is different.
Now there is an intimacy to it, and it excites and terrifies me. But I sigh against his lips when I feel him grow beneath my palm.