Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
But the bed . . . It was too low, and widening my stance didn’t help. My thighs burned from the effort, and the angle I wanted to drive into her was off.
I slid out of her and tugged her to her feet, but she fell forward into my arms.
“You think I can walk right now?” she cried incredulously.
Oh. I gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Sorry.”
I moved us to the side of the bed and let us fall on it in a tangled heap. I did everything I could to make it sound like a request and not an order. “Get on top of me.”
She flushed. Even in the goddamn heat. Beautiful.
Then she did as asked with my help, positioning herself over me and sinking down, inch by inch. My gaze focused between her legs, watching the sexy slide as she took me inside her. She tried to establish a slow, measured pace, but it made me crazy. I grasped her hips and drove her down on me, grinding her against me. When she arched her back, I slid my hands up to cup her breasts, my fingertips brushing across her hardened nipples.
Thank God Juric’s bullet had hit me low enough that I could do this with minimal pain.
It was beyond enjoyable letting her ride me. The strands of her hair swayed with the rock of our bodies, and moans swelled up from both of us. Sweat made me sticky, and the sharp slap of bodies caused the headboard to thump against the wall.
Kara’s orgasm came out of nowhere. She jerked on top of me with a strangled cry, and I pulled her down so her mouth was by my ear so I could enjoy listening to her better.
“You sound so fucking sexy when you come,” I said, prolonging her shivers.
In the pit of my stomach, a foreign sensation took hold when she stretched a leg down and asked me wordlessly with her body to roll her onto her back without losing our connection. I knew what she desired now, and I’d . . . well, I’d begrudgingly try.
Missionary was my least favorite position. Sometimes it felt like I had to do most of the work and the partner beneath me simply lay there. I didn’t want that. I wanted an equal.
Hadn’t I found that in her?
“Slower,” she said, when I was over her.
Her soft hands drifted down my shoulders, down my arms, and up again. Over my back. Like she couldn’t get enough of having me in her hands. Couldn’t get enough of touching me.
God, I could relate. I couldn’t get enough of her in every way possible.
She tilted her hips, angling so that I sank deeper into her, deeper than I’d been before, and I felt my eyes widen. The impossibly slow rhythm she’d demanded was tightening the tension inside me, winding it tighter every second.
I felt . . . connection. Like we were doing something so much more important than just getting each other off.
Like I belonged to her, belonged with her.
The rock of her hips against mine felt so amazing it was almost painful. Her lips were soft and warm. One of her hands threaded in my hair. The other was bent so it could grab the headboard behind her.
It had never been like this before. I’d never let emotion in during the act, and now I was grateful I hadn’t. What was happening between us was something I’d share only with her.
The word was probably meant to be a command, but it rang out as a desperate plea from her. “More.”
I shifted and bent a knee, then reached up to grab the edge of the mattress for leverage.
She wasn’t lying still beneath me, simply taking it. She was moaning, writhing, bucking . . . alive under me. Her hips moved to meet my thrusts, and she was in control of everything even though I was the one drenched in sweat from exertion, sliding over her, sliding inside her. Wanting this again, and again, forever.
“Look at me,” she said.
I was going to drown in the icy pools there. When I tried to kiss her, she tightened her hold on my head, stopping me.
Her voice was surprisingly steady, as if certain beyond a shadow of a doubt. “Ich liebe dich.”
Everything disappeared in a flash of white, and I tumbled into a place beyond pleasure. I heard her utter my name and then repeat that she loved me in English. Maybe she worried she’d said it wrong, or that I hadn’t heard her. But she’d said it again for herself, because she was tumbling into the same place I was, following me.
It felt like it was never going to stop, not that I wanted it to. And when it did, we returned slowly, one moment at a time.