Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“What’s that?” He pulls back, catching my gaze as he opens my door with his foot.
“What you taste like,” I murmur, brushing his short hair from his forehead. “It’s aloe, I think. Or maybe a hint of green banana.”
His lips quirk in surprise. “Well, that sounds okay, I guess. Better than garlic and tomato sauce.”
“You taste like that, too,” I say, smiling as he nudges the door closed behind us. “The aloe and green banana are underneath. It’s part of your base Blue taste.” I bite my lip before adding, “Same taste as your come.”
A storm sweeps into his eyes, bringing gray to hover at the edges of all that bright blue.
“I mean, I think it does,” I clarify, my nipples tingling as he carries me to the bed. “I only got a tiny taste of pre-come before we were so rudely interrupted. You should probably take your clothes off and let me get you off with my mouth to be sure I’ve nailed the flavor profile.”
He curses as he deposits me on the mattress, a rare loss of composure that I can’t help but feel proud for inspiring.
Nearly as proud as I am of inspiring that thick ridge behind his zipper…
“Clothes. Off. Now.” I reach for the bottom of his shirt, guiding it up to reveal his sculpted abs and thickly muscled chest, covered in coarse hair. I let my fingers play through the crisp strands as he tosses the shirt to the floor.
His skin is hot, feverish, but I know better than to offer to turn down the air-conditioning. This heat is coming from inside us—both of us—and there’s only one way to help it break.
As he kisses me again, slow and deep, so damned deep, I reach for the close of his pants, but he’s already fisting his hands in my dress. He drags it up and over my head, baring me to him even more completely than I was before, but I don’t feel the slightest bit shy.
The look on his face as I open the front of my bra and let the straps slide down my arms makes it obvious he’s a fan of my pregnant body.
A big fan…
“God, Bea,” he says, his voice trembling as the bulge behind his fly grows positively obscene. “I can’t believe how sexy you are.”
Holding my gaze, he reaches out, cupping my breasts, his large palms molding to the new, aching heaviness, summoning a broken moan from my throat when his thumbs brush over my nipples. They’re so sensitive, it’s almost painful, and the way he watches them tighten as he plays with me…
Watches my breath comes faster…
He makes no effort to hide how much he wants this. Neither do I. By the time his hands drop to my belly, tracing the curve from the top to just beneath my navel with a reverence that doesn’t make the touch any less electric, I’m practically panting with desire.
“I want you so much, Archer,” I whisper, my voice thick. “So much it hurts. Will you please fuck me now? Please?”
A guttural sound rips from his throat, and reverent Blue is a thing of the past. He surges over me, kissing me hard as he strips out of his jeans and boxers. I fall back on the pillows, fumbling with my panties, doing my best to squirm them down my thighs as his mouth closes over my nipple.
“God, Blue. God!” I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I arch into his tongue, moaning my appreciation as he rips my underwear the rest of the way off without missing a beat.
He moves back and forth, proving to my aching breasts that he doesn’t play favorites, until I’m about to crawl out of my skin with want. When he finally slides a hand between my legs, the sound I make is wild, primal, and far too loud.
I slap a hand over my mouth, willing myself to remember that Clover is trying to rest just a dozen feet down the hall as he pumps a finger inside me.
“You’re so tight, Bea.” He groans against my temple as I spread my legs wider in what I hope is an unmistakable invitation. “So wet, but so tight… So fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, God, you won’t, I promise.” I reach for his cock, huffing in frustration when my fingers can barely reach the tip. “You’re too tall. Come here. Come here and let me touch you. We’ll be fine.”
“I want better than fine,” he says, shifting up on the mattress, until I’m able to wrap my fingers around the molten length of him. “I don’t want to hurt you, not even a little bit.”
“You won’t,” I promise again, stroking him up and down. “And if you do, I’ll tell you that it’s hurting, and you can stop. But please. God, please, fuck me. Please.”