Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
He pauses, then lets out a savage, satisfied sound. "Fuck," he rasps, pressing his thumb exactly where I need it. "You bought these for me?"
I nod, or try to, but my whole body feels molten under the weight of his stare.
"I came in my pants when you touched my cock yesterday." He rubs his thumb over the seam of my panties, making me thrash against him. "I might do it again right now, just looking at how wet you are for me."
I dig my nails into his shoulders. "Harlan, please," I sob, because that's all I can do. The need is so intense now that my breath comes in tiny, desperate gasps.
He locks eyes with mine, the heat in them so intense it's holy. "You want me, Sophie?"
"Yes," I gasp, desperate. "Please."
"Then say it," he orders. "Tell me what you want."
I can barely breathe, let alone speak. But hell itself couldn't stop me right now. "Fuck me, Harlan. Before I die."
His grin is unholy. It's also so beautiful, I hope I never forget the way he looks in this moment—like I just gave him the whole world.
He drops to his knees so fast I nearly lose my balance. Within seconds, one of my legs is over his shoulder, his hands are digging into my hips, and his mouth is pressed against the seam of my new panties, tasting me.
"Goddamn," he groans. "Goddamn, ballerina." He drags the lace aside with his thumb, a growl rumbling in his throat. "Pink. Fucking perfect."
The heat of his mouth is right there, his tongue bold and shocking and so, so good.
I arch back against the elevator wall, clutching him for balance as he buries his face between my thighs like he's been starving for years. The first swipe of his tongue is enough to make me see stars. By the time he starts sucking, I'm babbling for him, clinging to his hair with both hands.
"Harlan, oh, fuck," I whimper, my voice embarrassingly loud in the echo chamber of the elevator.
He doesn't let up, doesn't give me a second to breathe or think. He just keeps eating me with messy, desperate devotion.
When I start to shudder, he moans low in his chest, the sound vibrating through my entire body.
He slips a finger inside, curling it perfectly, and I lose my grip on reality entirely. It feels like falling off a cliff, free and terrifying and impossible to stop.
I come so hard I'm afraid I might actually black out. But he holds me through every wave, licking and groaning until I'm limp and shaking in his arms.
He stands then, looming over me, and pins me with one hand, his chest heaving. "Sweetest fucking dessert I've ever had," he rumbles, licking his lips like he's debating a second course.
I grab for him, my fingers wrapping around his cock through his pants. He bucks forward, the noise he makes transforming me into something ravenous, greedy, and starved for him.
I work his zipper down, fumbling but determined. He helps, shoving at the waistband, his cock springing free. He's so damn big, I swear he's going to break me.
He lifts me—just grabs me and hoists until I'm wrapped around him, my back pressed to the wall, my dress bunched around my hips, my panties torn to the side.
And then he pauses. His forehead presses against mine, his breath shuddering. "Don't do this if you're going to regret me later, ballerina," he rasps.
I dig my nails into his scalp, drawing him closer until our mouths are a single crashing thing. "Shut up and kiss me, Harlan," I breathe into him. "Fuck me."
He slams me to the wall with his hips, but his mouth is gentle when it moves over mine.
That's the only gentle thing about him.
He drives into me with a single, devastating thrust, and I swear I feel him in my damn soul. It's more than a stretch. It's like being claimed by a force of nature. My whole body is split open for him, trembling, clamped tight around his cock. My cry echoes wild and helpless in the elevator.
He holds me up like I weigh nothing, one palm splayed wide behind my ribs, the other clamped on my hip, using my body as leverage. "Fuck, you're tight," he grits out. "You take every inch, baby. Jesus Christ."
"I am!" I sob.
He laughs, a rough, ruined sound, and pulls out of me only to plunge back in, so hard my head knocks against the elevator wall. The delicious shock of it nearly splits me in half.
I cry out, and he does it again, and again, each thrust deeper, harder, perfectly designed to wreck me completely.
"I've dreamed about this," he rasps, cradling my ass in both hands, using his strength to fuck me onto him with so little effort it's shocking. "You wrapped around me. Begging for it."