Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
The hesitation lasted only moments before something seemed to spark and catch fire between us. Weeks of wanting and trying to forget exploded in a sudden surge of need that left us both breathless. Sully tangled his fist in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made heat pool low in my belly.
“Need you,” he murmured against my mouth. “Fuck, Darby, I looked everywhere for you.”
The raw honesty in his voice undid something in me. I kissed him harder, ignoring the sting of my split lip, wanting to taste his hunger, to feel wanted in a way I never had before.
Without breaking the kiss, Sully began walking us backward, guiding me to the bedroom. My back met the wall beside his door, his body pressing against mine as he ran his hands down my body to my ass, territory he’d mapped once before in that hotel room and now felt like a lifetime ago.
“Ribs,” I gasped when his touch skimmed too close to my injury.
He immediately gentled his approach, his hands finding safer purchase on my hips. “Sorry,” he murmured, pulling back to look at me with concern. “We should stop --”
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” I growled, pulling his mouth back to mine. “Just be careful.”
The laugh that rumbled through his chest vibrated against me. “Demanding little hellcat,” he said against my lips, but I could hear the affection in his voice.
We stumbled through his door, clothes coming off in a frantic rush. I’m not really sure how we both got undressed, but the feel of his body beneath my hands sent both a familiar and thrillingly new jolt of pleasure through me.
When we finally reached his bed, he laid me down with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the urgent need evident in his eyes, in the hard press of his cock against my thigh. He hovered above me, careful not to put pressure on my injured side, his gaze raking over me with such naked desire that I felt beautiful despite the bruises marking my skin.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.
I reached up to trace the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. “You won’t.”
And he didn’t. Even in his most possessive moments, when his teeth grazed my shoulder, when he dug his fingers into my hips hard enough to leave bruises, he remained achingly aware of my injuries. He moved with a controlled strength that made me feel simultaneously protected and desired, a combination I’d never experienced before.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered against my breast, his tongue circling my nipple in a way that made me arch beneath him.
When he finally positioned himself between my thighs, his cock pressing against my pussy, I felt none of the usual urgency to take control, to set the pace. Instead, I surrendered to his lead, trusting him to take care of me in a way I’d never trusted anyone before.
He entered me slowly, giving me time to adjust to the stretch and fullness of him. The reverent care in his movements brought unexpected tears to my eyes, which I blinked away before he could see them. When he began to move, it was with a deliberate rhythm that built the tension inside me gradually, inexorably, like a tide rising toward shore.
“Sully,” I gasped, clinging to his shoulders as the pressure built. “Please.”
He knew what I needed without me having to explain. His pace increased, his thrusts deeper but still mindful of my injuries. One hand slid between us, his thumb finding my clit with unerring accuracy, putting just enough pressure to send me flying. My orgasm crashed over me with an intensity that left me crying out his name, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed through me. He followed moments later, his face buried against my neck, my name a prayer on his lips as he shuddered above me.
After, as we lay tangled together in the aftermath, his arm a protective weight across my waist, I waited for the familiar panic to set in. The need to leave, to run, to protect myself from the vulnerability of connection. It was the pattern of my life. I’d find a momentary pleasure, then disappear before attachments could form, before I could be hurt or abandoned again.
But the panic didn’t come. Instead, I found myself with my hand splayed over one side of Sully’s chest, my body relaxed against his in a way that should have terrified me. The absence of my flight response was more frightening than any danger I’d faced tonight.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Sully murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I smiled despite myself. “Just wondering when I became the kind of woman who stays.”