Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
"Jesus, Anna," I rasp, breaking the kiss to catch my breath.
Her innocent neediness is so different from last night but no less affecting. I'm all but falling to my knees.
She doesn't stop. Her lips move to my jaw, my neck, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Touch me," she demands, voice husky with need. "Please, Domhn. I need to feel you."
I comply, hands skimming up her sides, brushing the undersides of her breasts through her shirt. She arches into the touch with a gasp that might be the sexiest sound I've ever heard.
"Where now?" I struggle to maintain some semblance of control.
Her eyes, when they meet mine, are wild with want and something else—determination, maybe. Fear she's trying to outrun.
I meant where does she want me to touch her, but she takes me literally, intent on testing her theory about making new memories in new places.
"Library," she says, stepping back but keeping hold of my hand. "Follow me."
I do—of course I do—letting her lead me to our favorite room in the house. The walls are covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A fire crackles in the stone fireplace, and warm winter light pours in the windows.
She pauses at the threshold, taking in the space. "You lit a fire," she says softly, a smile curving her lips.
I nod. "I started it on my way to the kitchen this morning. I know how you like to curl up in here after breakfast."
Her eyes meet mine, something soft and grateful in them. "You always think of everything."
The knowledge that I'd unconsciously set the stage for this moment—that some part of me had been hoping for this connection even before I knew it was possible—sends heat surging through me.
She doesn't sit in one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace. Instead, she backs me against one of the bookcases, her small hands surprisingly strong as she presses me against it.
"I think about you in here," she confesses, her voice low. "When you're working late. I come in here and I can smell you on the books and the leather chairs. I sit by the fire and imagine you touching me." Her eyes reflect the dancing flames, turning them into liquid gold. "I think about the things we used to do before..." She trails off, something flickering in her eyes.
"Anna," I start, concerned.
She shakes her head, dismissing whatever shadow just passed over her. "Kiss me," she demands, rising on her toes.
I comply, pouring everything I feel for her into the kiss—my love, devotion, and my desperate need. Her hands slide into my hair, holding me to her as if I'd ever try to pull away.
My hands move down her back to her ass, squeezing, lifting her slightly. She moans into my mouth, her body going soft and pliant against mine. I turn us, walking her backward until we're near the hearth, the fire's warmth on our skin. I press her back against the large leather chair, one of my thighs slipping between hers.
She breaks the kiss with a gasp, her head falling back as she grinds against my thigh. "Domhn," she breathes, her fingernails digging into my shoulders.
The firelight plays across her face, highlighting the flush on her cheeks and the glisten of her parted lips. I drop my mouth to her neck, tasting the salt of her skin and feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips. Her nails rake down my back, and I groan against her throat.
She pushes me back, but only far enough for her eyes to roam over my bare chest, hungry and appreciative, before her hands follow. Each fingertip trails fucking fire. Anna traces the muscles of my torso with reverent fingertips. Meanwhile, I try not to fucking die.
"God, you're perfect," she whispers, leaning forward to press her lips to my collarbone.
I thread my fingers through her hair, holding her to me as her mouth explores me—my chest, my shoulders, and back to my neck. When her teeth graze my skin, I hiss out a breath, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.
She pushes me again, this time guiding me to sit in the chair. Before I can think, she's straddling me, her knees on either side of my hips, her hands braced on my bare shoulders. The position puts her slightly above me, the leggings covering her pussy teasing against my shaft that's standing at attention beneath my towel. I tilt my head back to keep eye contact with her.
"You're so beautiful," I breathe, my hands settling on her waist. "Are you sure this is alright, though?"
"It's good." She smiles, a flash of something almost shy crossing her features before the heat returns. "Very, very good." She leans down to kiss me, and this time it's slower, deeper, her tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that mimics what our bodies crave.
My hands slide under her shirt, tracing the soft skin of her back, feeling her shiver at my touch. When I reach the clasp of her bra, I hesitate again.