Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Her eyes search mine, a storm of fear, desire, and something deeper.
“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” I ask, anguish in my voice.
And that is the moment she breaks, her resolve crumbling like ash. She spreads her legs then… only slightly, but never was an invitation clearer, or more compelling.
“Lock the door,” she says, her voice breathy.
I don’t think. Like a robot, I obey and turn back to her.
“I didn’t come,” she says, standing up. “Make me come. You’ve never ever failed to make me come.
Her words hang in the moonlit room, a soft, trembling confession that shatters the last strand of my restraint. My heart races, wild and primal, echoing in the silence.
I move toward her, my bare feet silent on the plush rug, each step a surrender to the pull that has always bound us. Then… I’m before her. Close enough to feel the heat of her body. I am like a hypnotized man. My hands tremble as I reach for her, hesitating, my fingers hovering over the hem of her tank top, the fabric soft and worn.
“Amelia,” I whisper, my voice raw, breaking on her name, a plea for permission, for absolution. Her eyes hold mine, a storm of trust and desire, and she nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement that unleashes me.
I lift her top slowly, my fingers grazing her skin, the fabric sliding up, revealing the soft curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, her nipples hardening in the cool air. I pull the material over her head, her blonde hair spilling free. I watch it cascading in waves in the bluish light, and I memorize her, every inch. A vision I’ve dreamed of for years. This is a dream.
Only a dream.
My lips find her collarbone in a soft, lingering kiss, tasting the salt of her skin, the faint pulse beneath, and she shudders. A quiet gasp escapes her lips as I move lower, kissing the delicate skin between her breasts, my tongue tracing the curve, savoring her warmth, her softness, the sweetness that’s haunted me since our first kiss. Her hands rest on my shoulders, her fingers digging in, a silent urging as I kiss every inch—her ribs, the dip of her navel, the tender inside of her elbow—each touch a worship, a reclamation of what was once mine. And only mine.
My fingers hook into her shorts, sliding them down with aching slowness, the cotton whispering against her thighs, pooling at her ankles. She steps out, naked before me, her body a masterpiece of curves and shadows, the moonlight silvering her skin, highlighting the faint beauty spot on her left hip, the gentle swell of her belly.
Dear Lord, let not this dream end…
I kneel, my hands on her hips, steadying her, and kiss the soft skin above her sex, my lips lingering, my breath warm against her. Her sweet smell fills my nostrils. It’s intoxicating. The old memories rush back like an unstoppable torrent of water. It drowns out the world. I forget everything but the taste of her.
She is everything—familiar, sweet, a fantasy made real. My heart races. I’m out of control. And there’s no going back.
"I’ve missed you,” I murmur, my voice rough, my lips brushing her skin, and she trembles, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
“You left me,” she mutters.
It is like a red rag to a bull. I left? What else was I to do?
I stand and push her onto the bed. She bounces and gasps with surprise. In a flash, I’m on top of her, my hands and knees on either side of her. The mattress yields beneath us. She stares up at me ,her eyes dark with need, her hair fanning across the pillow. I swoop down and cover her sex with my mouth. My tongue finds her, tastes her sweetness, and the torrent consumes me.
She’s wet, slick, and familiar, a taste I’ve craved for years, and I moan against her, the vibration drawing a soft cry from her lips. I lick her greedily, deeply, savoring every shudder, every hitch of her breath, my hands spreading her thighs wider, feeling the tension in her muscles, the way she arches into me. Her sweetness is heady, a nectar I can’t get enough of. Drunk with her taste, I tease her mercilessly, my tongue circling, dipping, drawing out her pleasure until she’s trembling, her moans growing louder, sharper.
Her cries intensify, a desperate edge to them, and I clap a hand over her mouth, gentle but firm, muffling her scream. Her eyes widen, meeting mine, and I see the trust, the surrender, as she bucks against my mouth, her body taut, her breath ragged against my palm.
I don’t stop, my tongue relentless, driving her higher, tasting every pulse, every wave, until she shatters, her body convulsing, her muffled cries vibrating against my hand. I hold her through it, my lips soft, soothing, drinking her in. Her sweetness is a memory I’ll carry forever. She is a love I can’t deny, even as the guilt waits, a shadow at the edge.