Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“You like that?” I whisper, doing it again, tweaking a bit.
His fingers clench my thighs, the thick erection in his jeans rocking me forward. I brace my hands on his shoulders, caress his smooth skin.
“Have you any idea how fucking hot you are?” I press a soft, lingering kiss on the hollow of his throat.
He swallows hard. “Whatever you say now, I’ll believe.”
Humming in response, I kiss him again, between his pecs, moving down to that tempting little nipple.
A groan tears from him as I suck the hard, cool barbell into my mouth, worrying the nub of his nipple with the tip of my tongue. He’s so tight his body trembles, his fingers kneading my shoulders as if he can’t decide whether to hold on or let go.
It spurs me on, makes me take that delicious nub between my teeth and bite, pulling at the metal.
“Oh, fuck, Cherry.” He practically bucks me off with the thrust of his hips, his back arching off the pillows. And I haven’t even gotten to his cock.
Which is all I want to do now. I smile against his skin and nibble my way down the divot that divides his abdomen.
Dex pants beneath me, and I know he’s watching. I come up on my knees, angling my body so he has a better view. My tongue flicks out, licking into his small belly button.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.
“In the best possible way.” I nuzzle his happy trail, my fingers working the fly of his jeans. They’re stretched tight over his cock, and the zipper makes a loud buzz as I force it down.
I love the way he sucks in a breath, his abs retreating as if he’s almost afraid to feel my touch, but then he cants his hips as if to say, please, please, go lower.
The flat of my tongue drags across thin, tight skin, the muscle beneath quivering, and I slowly part his jeans. Crinkly brown hairs greet me. Hell, there’s nothing under these here but Dex.
His cock slides out, standing up for attention.
“Jesus,” I rasp.
“What?” His hoarse whisper drifts down to me, and I glance up, see his flushed cheeks, his dazed expression. He’s panting now, a sheen of sweat glistening over his chest.
“Give me a moment.” My hand reaches out to stroke his hot skin. He’s so hard he pulses.
He swallows, his cock jumping under my touch.
I take a breath and calm myself. Some people don’t like cocks—or at least the look of them. I do. I love everything about the male anatomy. Dex’s is beautiful—big enough that I know it’s going to be work getting him in, and long enough that I know I’ll feel each thrust he makes. The thought alone has my thighs pressing together in anticipation.
But that’s not what holds my attention now. No.
He’s pierced. Silver studs glint at the base of his wide cock head. One on the top and one on the bottom. I’ve never been with a guy who’s pierced, but I’ve heard stories. I know those little nubs will hit all the right spots inside me.
My thumb rubs the larger of the balls on the top, and Dex sucks in a sharp breath.
But he doesn’t move. He’s waiting to see what I’ll say.
“Now, this—” I rub him again, loving the way it makes him twitch with pleasure “—had to hurt going in.”
“You have no idea,” he says in a raw voice.
“When?” And why?
Dex licks his lower lip. “After the wedding. You stripping down to that pretty green bra and those tiny panties. My wet dream walking. Should have gone for you then.”
I wasn’t ready for him then. I was still all about wild parties and dragging myself through college. I wouldn’t have appreciated Ethan the way he deserves.
I stroke along the underside of the flared head, finding the smaller steel piercing.
His hips shift, and he hisses, but he lets me play.
“You could have found someone else,” I murmur. “Do you know how many women would kill to have you?”
“Didn’t seem to want anyone else,” he whispers. “It had to be you.”
God, the thought of him wanting me so badly. All that pent-up need hiding behind such a calm facade. It terrifies me. And it makes me want to take him hard and keep him forever.
His solemn eyes, framed by thick lashes, are open wide and trained on my face as his broad chest lifts and falls with each heavy breath.
“They have no fucking idea, do they?” My voice is barely a whisper.
He stills, the muscles along his torso going tight as he stares back at me. I don’t have to explain myself; he knows exactly what I mean, and he gives me the barest shake of the head, his throat working on a hard swallow.
No. No one sees him the way I do. Because he doesn’t let them. Content to stay in the shadows, provide support when needed, never demanding anything for himself. Until me.