Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Too far,” he growls. “Bleedin’ hell, you’re so wet for me.”
One finger slips through my folds and plunges inside me, and I whimper as I lean my forehead against the wall in front of me.
“Connor.”
“So tight,” he whispers against my skin as he peppers kisses along the slope of my shoulder. “So bloody everything. I can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want you to.” He adds a second finger, and I quiver around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” he growls next to my ear. “My greedy girl, you’re not going to come quite yet. All I’ve thought about today is you. When I’m supposed to be working, you’re in my head. Your smart mouth and your sweet smile and the way this pussy tightens around me.”
“Oh my God.”
I hear his zipper behind me, the rustle of fabric, and then the crown of his cock is right there.
“Tell me.”
“I want you,” I moan, pushing my ass back at him, practically begging him to fuck me already. “Please.”
“That’s my girl.” He pushes inside me all the way, and he’s so big. I’m so full, I can’t help myself from crying out. “You take me so well, mo rúnsearc. Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
With his hands on my hips, he sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping my ass with every thrust.
“Connor … ah, hell. Fuck, I’m going to come. I can’t—”
“Do it,” he says, fisting his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck, and when he tugs, there’s no stopping the climax that consumes me. “That’s it. That’s my girl. God, you’re so bloody gorgeous when you let go like that.”
He pumps into me three more times, and then he’s grinding against me as he groans, filling me up as he comes, his forehead resting on my shoulder.
After a moment, he pulls out, and I can feel the mess of us run down my thigh, but it just makes me laugh in surprise. He just railed me against the wall because he missed me.
That doesn’t suck.
“I’ll be right back.” But first, I turn around and pull him down to kiss me. “And for the record, I missed you, too.”
He flashes that sexy-as-all-get-out grin before I pull away and go clean myself up in the bathroom.
When I walk back out, mostly cleaned up, I find him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s a sight to behold.
“We’re walking to your place from here,” he informs me, surprising me.
“We are? Won’t Miller be mad?”
“Miller works for me, not the other way around, and it’s a lovely summer evening. I want to take a stroll with you, angel.”
I can’t help but smile at him.
“Unless your feet hurt in those death traps you call shoes.”
“My death traps are perfectly comfortable,” I reply as I take his offered hand, and we walk out the front door. “Oh, but my car is parked out back.”
“I’ll have Miller handle it.”
“Poor Miller. He shouldn’t have to do that.”
Connor laughs and kisses the back of my hand. “Trust me, Miller’s just fine.”
I lock the door, set the alarm, and then, with my hand clutched in his and our fingers laced, we walk side by side down the sidewalk toward my house.
“Tell me about your ideal home library,” he says, making me frown up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“If you could dream up any library you’d have in a home, what would it look like?”
“I mean, there are factors here. How big could it be? How much light is there? I used the formal dining room in my house and converted it into a small library, and I like it, but it’s really small.”
“It could literally be anything you want, bumble.”
I blink at that, thinking it over, then I pull my phone out of my cross-body handbag.
“I just so happen to have an entire Pinterest board dedicated to this topic.” I tap the screen, select the app, and once I’ve found what I’m looking for, I show it to the sexy man walking next to me. “I love the idea of a room with a monochromatic design. Personally, I’d love a sage green or a pretty blue, like this one. So the walls, the trim, and the bookshelves are all the same because I’d want to showcase the books. I’d want brass hardware and light fixtures, and I’d have these super deep, comfortable chairs with ottomans. Little tables at the side to hold a drink and maybe a snack.”
I glance up to see if he’s listening, and he’s staring down at my phone intently as if he’s taking mental notes.
“Send that to me,” he says.
“I’m not done.” I flip to another photo. “See how the shelves are floor to ceiling? That’s a must-have. I don’t want to waste any space at the top of the bookcase.”