Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“Since you’re not tired,” he says, pouring a flight of shots. “Let’s play a game.”
“I don’t carry cards in my purse.”
“This is a Q&A game.” He pushes the liquor toward me before returning to my side. “I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”
“Does the winner get a prize?”
“Yes.” He’s close enough for me to inhale the scent of his cologne. “If you win, I’ll give you something you desperately need.”
“An endless explanation about who you really are?”
“Orgasms.”
His words hang in the air for several seconds, daring me to push for something else, but I don’t.
“And if you win?” is all I can say. “What will you get?”
“We’ll see.” He downs a shot and motions for me to follow his lead. “First to three, and the rules are simple. I’ll tell you three random things about myself, two of which are true, one is a lie. Guess the lie. Fair?”
“Yes.” I pick up a shot glass, and he watches me knock it back.
“Ladies first,” he says. “Tell me three random things about you.”
“My middle name is a homage to my mother’s favorite actress, I learned how to repair violins when I was—”
“No, Autumn,” he interrupts me. “You need to tell me things I don’t already know.”
I hesitate for several seconds, wracking my brain for replacements.
“I’ve never been ranked anything less than first chair in an orchestra, I’ve never been out of the country, and before meeting you, I’ve never committed a crime.”
“Hmmm.” He lets out a low laugh and treats himself to another shot. “I believe those are all lies.”
“No.” I shake my head, wondering if I’m that easy for him to read. “It’s the last thing I said.”
“I highly doubt that,” he says. “That lie aside, every symphony beginner always starts as the last chair.”
Silence.
“We’ll treat that round as a learner’s error.” He brushes strands of hair away from my face. “Try me again.”
“Maybe you should show me how it works this time.”
“Not if I’m trying to let you win…” He tilts my chin up with his fingertips. “Again…”
“I used to run a mile a day without fail, I missed my chance at touring with a symphony due to a mistake I made, and I have a ridiculous amount of green and brown art supplies in my storage unit.”
“The first one is a lie.” He doesn’t bother asking if he’s right. “My turn… My family once ran the best pasta warehouse on the east coast, I’m not originally from this city, and I’ve committed plenty of crimes before meeting you.”
“The first one.”
“No,” he says, picking up the final shot glass and pressing it against my lips. “Those are all true, actually.”
“Noted.” The liquor burns a trail down my throat. “So, it’s my turn again?”
His eyes trail down to my lips, dark with hunger.
“No, we’ll just count that as a win for you.” He suddenly presses his mouth against mine, kissing me until I fully submit to his lips.
Staring into his eyes, I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He steadies me by pinning my body against the counter with his hips.
I suck in a breath as he slides a hand under my dress and pushes my soaking-wet panties to the side.
Groaning softly, he presses his thumb against my clit, teasing it while his mouth still owns mine. My hips twitch instinctively, desperate for more, but he keeps the pressure maddeningly light, circling just enough to make me whimper.
I can feel his cock stiffening against my thigh with every wet caress, and my nipples are hardening against my bra.
Just when I feel myself spiraling toward release, he pulls away. He suddenly withdraws his hands away from me. Then he stops his kiss without warning, leaving me bereft and on edge.
“What are you—”
“Keep your arms where they are,” he commands, unzipping his pants.
The sound of his zipper is louder than the silence around us. My mouth waters at the thought of finally feeling all of him again. He quickly pulls out a condom and sheathes his cock, and before I can look down and determine how much of him I need to brace for, he lifts my leg and slides into me.
“Ahhhh…” I can’t help but moan as he fills me. “Ryderrr…”
He grips my ass and pulls me closer, forcing my pussy to take every single inch. And before I can cry out again, he tightens his grip on my skin and pushes me back and forth, away and to him… giving me exactly what I need—a flavor of sex I’ve never tasted, all-consuming in a way I never knew existed.
There’s no use in trying to be a co-conductor with him; he’s in total control, and from the heated look in his eyes, I know he’ll keep it that way.
He bites my bottom lip as my pussy throbs against him, but he doesn’t slow down. He keeps kissing me between deep strokes, handling my body like he owns it, like I’m a puppet connected to his well-tamed strings. Every thrust shatters what little resolve I have left. I’m completely undone, molded by his rhythm, remade by his dominance.