Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I feel like prey caught in his web, immobilized by my desire and my eagerness to give him exactly what he wants. I can’t imagine the women Cristiano has been with before, the beauties of Ibiza who’ve frequented his bed, and while I don’t feel lacking compared to these imagined women, I do feel competitive.
I want him to remember me after this summer, remember this night.
He circles the bed and comes up behind me, and I hold my breath. I have no idea where he’ll touch me, and when his hands gather my damp hair and twist it, I shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over the goose bumps on my upper arm.
“No,” I promise, turning to kiss his hand.
He pushes the strands of my hair off my shoulder, then grips the back of my neck, pushing me slowly forward so I’m forced to bend at the waist, catching my weight with my hands as my upper body stretches out over the bed. He’s not forcing me to do it, but he’s also not asking.
His hand slips off my neck. Then…
I’m left waiting. Bent at the waist, enjoying the thrill of this new position.
I know he’s looking at me, seeing every vulnerable dip, every secret valley. My underwear serves absolutely no purpose at this point.
I close my eyes and breathe, trying to calm my nerves. I want him to say something, to give me some indication of his feelings, but his silence is somehow better. It taunts me like dark shadows, fraying the fragile edges of my patience.
I’m about to turn around to see what he’s doing, but then he touches the back of my thigh with the tip of his finger. The heat of it makes me jump, and he takes his time trailing his finger higher up my leg, skipping across to my other thigh and back down to my other knee.
I feel like I’m being tortured in the best way.
I want to slip my hand between my legs myself. I’m more than happy to find satisfaction by any means necessary. But then he bends down onto his knees behind me, putting himself eye level with a part of me that spikes my blood. Surely he’s—
My breath arrests when he gathers the sides of my boxers and starts to draw them down. There’s nothing to do, no way to shield myself. He’s unwrapping me like a gift. My underwear gathers in a pool of silk at my feet. I don’t step out of them. I don’t move at all.
His teeth sink into my thigh and he bites. My head drops between my biceps as I inhale sharply. As soon as the pain subsides, he kisses me there, soothing the ache. No, not soothing it—stoking it.
I’m so unprepared for his mouth to press between my thighs, right over the center of me, that I cry out. It sounds like agony, but it’s bliss, having him lick slowly, as if savoring the taste of me. He spreads me apart and holds me in place as his face presses between my legs. Again, his tongue slowly laps over me. Over… and over until my elbows threaten to give out, but I lock them and hold still, wanting this more than I can bear.
I feel his warm breath skim across me, hear his heavy sigh of approval. Then he presses his middle finger into me deeply in tandem with his mouth.
“Cristiano.”
His name is ripped out of me as I arch up and lose myself to the overwhelming pleasure. He’s there until the last spark, continuing until my breathing slows and I collapse forward, face-planting onto the bed in a tangle of tired limbs. He rises and moves over me, kissing my shoulder blade, running his hand up my spine before gently turning me over to look at him.
God.
What a sight.
He looks me over, studying me as the shadows in the room sharpen his cheekbones. I look at his lips, see the evidence of what he just did, and flush.
He notices my reaction even in the dim lighting. His gaze roves over my neck and chest before he stands and grabs the condom, holding my attention as he rips it open. “You do something to me, Isabel. You make it so fucking hard to resist. Mírame. Look at me.”
My eyes flutter open; I hadn’t realized I’d even let them close. It’s just all so overwhelming. My heart hammers, and I feel so exposed lying beneath him. Exposed and wanting.
There’s dangerous intent in his gaze as his hand slips back between my legs so he can stroke me again. Just one touch and already I’m arching up, as responsive and needy as ever. I know he loves what he does to me; he’s momentarily forgotten about the condom.
“This one time won’t be enough.”