Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
It’s desire. It’s raw and unfiltered need.
“You have permission to touch me.”
And he crushes the distance between us like he’s been waiting a lifetime to do it. He pulls me against him, his other hand cupping my cheek, and he kisses me like lightning. His mouth crushes to mine and a low growl escapes his throat, and I’m kissing him back, equally washed away by the moment. His taste invades my mouth, stroking against mine, dominating me, tasting me, drinking me down, as his hands roam my body, tugging off clothes, dragging me to the couch.
He undresses me, throwing clothes to the side, releasing soft groans as each new inch of flesh is revealed. His eyes are bright with need when he pauses to look at me, hands cupping my bare breasts. He stoops to lick my nipples, stiffening my pink buds, lapping them hard with his tongue before pulling my hair to expose my throat.
“I knew you could never,” he says, relief and desire thick in his voice. “I didn’t want to believe it.”
“I wouldn’t.” He kisses my neck, stringing pecks and licks up to my mouth again as he drags me down to the couch. I’m shoved back, landing with a soft gasp, and he’s kneeling between my legs, crushing me with his size and weight, kissing down my chest and stomach.
“I hate this fucking leash you have me on,” he snarls, licking my hip bones, moving closer and closer to my aching slit. I slide my fingers through his hair and grip tightly.
“What would you do if I let it go?”
“Devour you.” He kisses my inner thigh, teasing now, building the tension. I want his mouth on my pussy more than life itself right now. “I don’t think I could keep my hands to myself for more than an hour at a time.”
“I think it’s better you stay leashed then.”
“Fuck that. I dream about you.” He shoves my legs wider, roughly, controlling, demanding. “It’s all I can think about. Your taste. Your moans. Fuck, Charlie. This isn’t what I thought when we got married…”
“You wanted a wife in name only.”
“I wanted an alliance. I got a fucking bride instead.”
His tongue stiffens and glides along my folds, licking me open, spreading me enough to find my swollen clit. He rolls around in circles, lapping at it, making these obscene moaning noises as he does it like a man lost in pleasure at a feast. I like it when he’s free like this, finally unloading all the lust he’s been hoarding since the last time I gave him permission. He licks, sucking, drinking my soaking pussy down before gliding two big fingers deep into me.
He moves up, fingers buried, and kisses me. He makes me taste myself, warm and salty on his lips. I moan, whimpering as his fingers curl and slide out, pushing back in, again and again, and I’m so wet it’s like they’re drenched in me.
“I’m straining against myself all the fucking time,” he whispers, kissing me, licking my breasts as he finger-fucks me. “I want to follow your rules. I’m a man of my word, but I want you so fucking badly I’m tempted to turn myself into a goddamn monster to taste you.”
“It sounds like you have some amazing self-control.”
“You have no idea, baby. All day like I’m holding myself back…”
“And when I finally say yes?”
“I’m broken.” He stares at me for a moment, fingers slid in deep. I’m breathing hard and dancing on the edge as the pressure and pleasure build in my core, growing and haunting, heavy and incredible. “I’m fucking shattered when you finally let me loose.”
“Then break.”
“No, baby.” He kisses me then bites my lower lip. “It’s your turn.”
He returns between my legs. His fingers fuck me faster now as his mouth does its filthy job. I picture him aching for me, brooding and dark, stroking himself in the shower, thinking about kissing me, and it’s too much. This man wants me and I’ve never felt like this before in my life. I’ve never had someone need me so badly, and maybe I should be scared, maybe it should freak me out.
Instead, it’s everything.
“Faster,” I moan, back arching. I’m so deep in bliss I can’t even make sentences anymore. “Oh, fuck, Stefano, please, please, faster.”
He obeys, my husband, my beautiful fighter, my killer. He does what I ask when I ask because that’s the kind of man he is. He gives me what I want, especially when I beg for it. His fingers glide in fast and deep as his lips and tongue suck and lick, and I finally shatter. I come so hard I nearly pass out as my hips buck into his mouth, grinding into his face. He’s moaning as I finish, and my ears are ringing when the orgasm finally washes over me.