Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“I’m glad you’ve found them. And I hope you can add me to that list.”
“I already did.” His lips dipped near my ear, his nose nuzzling my hair. “But there are things I want to do just with you.” He pushed me back, and my head sank into the pillow as he moved in over me. “Just to you.”
Oh god. My hormones returned in full force. He was on top of me, not putting his full weight on me, but enough to hold me down, to let me really feel his hard, sculpted muscles.
His lips grazed the side of my neck.
Being this close to a man like Cody was intoxicating, and I wanted to give pleasure as much as receive it. But there was also just something so damn exciting to hear him say he wanted to do things to me—to my body.
I brought a leg up, hooking it over him, rubbing a heel against the back of his legs. There were goosebumps all over my skin, and I sank my fingers into his hair. He was still peppering kisses over my neck and jawline when he wedged his knee between my thighs, spreading them, and that too gave me a primal thrill.
“My whole life, especially by foster parents, I’ve been told to keep my legs together like a lady,” I whispered. “So sometimes it feels good to do the opposite. Like when we watched that show for class.”
I paused, moaning as his tongue lapped over my throat. “When I put my leg on yours like a piano and you pulled it closer to you. Just doing that—spreading my legs—it turned me on.”
“Me too,” Cody murmured against my heated skin.
He brought his knee up, his thigh pressing against my slit as my legs parted yet again. There was something so exciting and primal about this.
He sat up, hovering over me, and he grasped the hem of my chemise which had ridden up on my hips. He waited, watching my face until I nodded. Then I lifted off the bed so that he could slide the silky fabric up and over my head.
The cool air in the room caressed my bare skin, and I could’ve felt exposed, lying topless under him. But it wasn’t like that. Not with him. He had his hands on either side of my shoulders, and his gaze was on his face. Then he leaned forward, still pressing his hard, muscled thigh between my legs.
I ground against him—I couldn’t help it. He caught my wrists, pinning them to the pillow on either side. Then he leaned down and claimed my mouth.
My back arched, and I strained against the grip he had on my wrists—not because I wanted to get free but because I wanted to feel his strength. Somehow, this man took me from 0 to 60 and then possibly straight on through to 120. I ground myself against his thigh, wanting more, needing more.
It was just so hot to be pinned down and have him ravish my mouth. I moaned, arching my back again, and he took that as a cue to move to my throat, nibbling and licking, and then lower. I squirmed as he kissed me between my collarbones.
I kept squirming so much, I’m surprised I didn’t buck him off—and very glad I didn’t as his talented mouth moved lower.
“Oh god,” I moaned.
He caught a nipple between his teeth, and I stilled, afraid that if I writhed around too much it would hurt, but he knew what he was doing. His tongue flickered back and forth, making my nipple even harder than it already had been. So hard that it ached.
He squeezed lightly with his teeth before he let go—the equivalent of a pinch with his fingers. Then he buried his face in my cleavage, just breathing me in.
“You’re so beautiful, Mia. Your body… but also just you.”
Before I could respond to that, he was at the other nipple, and then words eluded me—at least until he let go of my wrists as he moved down my body again.
His nose grazed along my stomach, just above the line of my panties, and I put my hands on his head, fisting his hair, and trying not to push his head down where I needed it.
But he knew what I wanted. The way my hips were gyrating in little circles wasn’t exactly subtle. His hands moved between my thighs, and then he was pushing my legs outward—splayed the way no lady should ever do, according to so many authority figures over the years—and I loved it. I was open to him, except for the small panties I wore.
He dipped a finger under the waistband, then down the side. And then he stopped and grasped the front of the panties—and there was a sting—and they were gone.
Holy shit. Had he just ripped them off me?