Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“It’s a dangerous one.”
“Oh?”
I nodded as I caught the back of her neck and rolled her beneath me, settling my weight between her open legs while her surprised laugh dissolved into a soft gasp. “I suffered most of the night.”
Heat spread across her cheeks as her palms moved up my chest, but she didn’t look away or pretend the blunt answer embarrassed her enough to want less. Her legs widened beneath me, accommodating the heavier lines of my body while my cock pressed against her warm center. When I rocked once, grinding the thick ridge along her, her lips parted, and the sound that escaped went straight through my balls.
“Poor Corbin,” she breathed.
Hearing her say my real name in my bed hit even harder than it had the night before.
“You can make it up to me now.”
I took her mouth before she could say anything else, swallowing her gasp while my hand threaded through her hair while the other closed around one of her breasts. The soft weight filled my palm, her nipple tightening instantly against the center of it before my thumb dragged over the sensitive peak. Bex whimpered and arched beneath me with her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“That’s it,” I growled against her lips, rolling the tight little point between my fingers while her hips lifted toward the hard pressure of my cock. “Let me hear what my hands do to you.”
Her answering moan came out breathless and sweet, feeding every filthy image I’d been carrying since the wedding. Bex rolled her hips again, catching my erection hard enough to drag a rough sound from my chest. Her hand moved down my stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of my sleep pants before her fingers wrapped around the thick base of my cock. The first stroke nearly destroyed the reason I’d promised myself I would stop, and I caught her wrist against my abdomen before she could do it again.
She stilled beneath me, confusion mixed with hurt filling her pretty eyes. “You want me to stop?”
“No.” I brought her hand to my mouth and bit lightly at the pad of her thumb, watching the concern turn back into heat. “But I have shit I’ve gotta handle, and I don’t want any other interruptions when I finally get you naked.”
I lowered my mouth to the pulse beating beneath her ear and let my teeth scrape lightly over it, giving myself one more taste before control became a memory. “First time I take you, I’m going to need hours, baby. Once I start, not gonna stop until I know every inch of this sexy body.”
Bex’s skin turned pink again, and a visible shiver moved through her, tightening the hand I still held while her legs slid higher around my hips. “Okay.”
I ground my cock against her once more, hard enough to make her breath break, then forced myself off the bed before the heat in her eyes convinced me otherwise. “Get in the shower before I change my mind.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows, my shirt hanging off one shoulder while her hair spilled around her flushed face. “You could join me.”
“I could also fuck you against the tile before we make it past the soap.” I caught the shirt where it had slipped and dragged it back into place, although covering her did nothing helpful for my throbbing cock. “Not gonna do that our first time, Bex. Separate showers.”
Bex smiled as she climbed from the bed, brushing her body deliberately against mine while she passed. “For someone who insists on making all the decisions, you don’t seem very happy with this one.”
“I’m not,” I growled as I caught her around the waist, pulled her back against my chest, and put my mouth beside her ear while my cock pressed into the curve of her ass. “But you’re not gonna change my mind, baby.”
Apparently, my warning had accomplished the opposite of discouraging her. Her eyes brightened with challenge, and I growled again as I turned her toward the bathroom and smacked her ass to get her moving.
Years of honing self-discipline were all that kept me from joining her in the shower. I used one of the guest bathrooms, then headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. Bex entered a little while later in fitted jeans and a soft green shirt, with her damp hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She set the tablet she was carrying on the table and squinted under the recessed lights, which were on full brightness.
“Does your kitchen always look like it’s trying to force a confession out of breakfast?” She slid onto one of the stools at the island.
I stopped and looked around. The black counters, steel appliances, and hard white lighting did make the room look more suited to extracting state secrets than scrambling eggs. “Fuck. You’re right.”