Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
My brain short-circuits, and I forget every single vocabulary word I’ve ever learned.
He palms my boobs through the thin cotton, and I swear to God, my heart stops. His thumbs circle my nipples, lazy and slow, and I arch into him, desperate for more friction, more everything.
Preston groans, low in his chest, and the sound does wild things to my insides. He pushes my T-shirt up, bunching it under my arms, then slides it over my head and tosses it somewhere behind him. I’m in my favorite bra—a black lacy thing that’s maybe a little too see-through and definitely not designed for support. But the look on his face when he sees it? Oh, wow. It’s pure hunger.
“Fuck, Hazel.” He says it like he’s lost his entire mind. He cups my boob, his big hand covering nearly all of it, and squeezes. Not gentle. Not careful. Possessive. Like he’s claiming territory.
I make a crazy sound. A real, totally involuntary, straight-from-the-gut gasp. My back arches so hard I nearly knock us both off balance.
He mutters something filthy against my neck. His hot breath brushes across my skin, sending electricity flowing down my spine. “You’re fucking perfect,” he grinds out, and then he’s got both hands on me, thumbs circling over the lace until my nipples go tight and achy.
Oh. My. God.
My brain turns to mush. There’s nothing left but heat and friction and the sweet, wicked ache building in my core. My breath stutters out in a high, embarrassing squeak, but Preston just groans and flicks his thumbs again, harder this time, until my hips buck up and slam into his.
He grins, dark and hungry, then ducks his head and bites at the top of my boob, right above the cup of my bra. He doesn’t just nip either. He bites and sucks until there’s a mark, and then he does it again, lower this time, right on the sensitive skin where my cleavage starts.
Holy. Shit.
Preston growls, low and animalistic, then licks over the spot like he’s soothing the tiny ache. My skin is on fire, and I can’t do anything but clutch his shoulders and ride it out.
He carries me over and sets me on the edge of the bed, looming over me, eyes dark and wild. “Now’s the time to tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he says, voice shaking.
“I’ll kill you if you stop,” I reply, only half joking.
He laughs, but it’s a choked, hungry sound, and then he’s on me again, his hands mapping every inch of my body. He rips away my bra and takes his time, kissing every spot from my collarbone to my waist. I’m dizzy, undone, and all I want is more. My back hits the mattress, and Preston is right there, crawling up over me, mouth moving hot and desperate from my throat to the center of my chest. His hands bracket my ribs, greedy, reverent, and when he bends down, his tongue flicks over my nipple so fast and sharp I almost levitate off the bed.
“Preston,” I manage, but it comes out in just a breath.
He looks up at me, eyes gone molten. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls, and then he’s sucking my boob into his mouth, rough and possessive and relentless. He bites, just hard enough to send sparks shooting down my center right to my core.
I’m not even going to pretend I’m quiet. It’s a miracle I don’t shatter the glass in my bedroom window with the noises coming out of my mouth.
He kisses lower, mouth hot and greedy, down my ribs, over my stomach, pausing at my belly button just to torture me. He grins up at me, eyes blazing, and then he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my leggings and panties and drags them off in one smooth move. Like he’s unwrapping a present he’s been dying to open.
“Fucking perfect,” he groans, hands framing my hips as he presses a kiss to my hipbone, then my upper thigh, then lower to the inside of my knee. My pulse is pounding so hard I can feel it in my toes. Preston’s beard scrapes over my sensitive skin, and my hips shoot up all on their own, desperate for more. My breath leaves me in a rush. I am so turned on I can’t tell up from down.
Preston pins my legs with his big hands, like he’s trying to keep me from launching straight to the ceiling. His mouth is hot, hungry, relentless. He drags his tongue up my inner thigh, slow and torturous, and I nearly come apart before he even gets where he’s going.
Holy shit. My body is vibrating.
He grins against my skin, beard scraping my thigh, blue eyes flicking up to meet mine. “You have no idea how much I need you,” he growls, and then he spreads my legs wider and leans over to blow warm air across my sensitive opening.