Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I need that, too.” I’ve never been able to just jump into the physical stuff. “I don’t want to put my heart on the line with someone who doesn’t feel the same, and I know my parents’ rocky relationship influenced that for me.”
“That makes perfect sense. So we’ll go slow?” She bites her lip.
“We’ll savor each other.” I cup her face in my palms. “I’d like to kiss you again.”
“Yes, please,” she whispers.
We tip our heads at the same time, lips parting, tongues brushing. Fee moans into my mouth and shimmies forward in my lap, chest pressed tightly to mine. She anchors a hand in my hair while the other drifts over my shoulder, stopping to squeeze my biceps before returning to my hair.
I keep one hand curved gently against her cheek and settle the other on her hip as I deepen the kiss, angling her head so I can explore her mouth. She whimpers and rolls her hips, nails biting lightly into my scalp.
Eventually we break the kiss, sucking in greedy gulps of air as I sweep my lips along the edge of her jaw. “You’re so sweet and sexy, Ophelia.”
She rolls her hips again, another needy whimper hums across my cheek, and I groan when she rubs over my aching erection.
She pulls back, glassy eyes searching mine. “Is that okay?”
“Fuck yeah, it is.” My fingers flex on her hip. “I want more of your little moans, sweetheart.”
Her eyes flare and she drags her tongue across her bottom lip. “Can you just…say that again?”
“I want to make you feel good, Ophelia.” I grip her hip and pull her tighter against me, seeking friction. “I want your soft whimpers humming over my lips, and I want to swallow up all your pretty moans.”
“Oh wow.” She exhales in a rush. “I want all of that, too.”
I grin and shift back on the bed, moving until I’m stretched out on top of the comforter. I cup the back of her neck and pull her mouth back to mine. Fee rolls her hips while we kiss, gifting me with the needy sounds I covet.
She slides a hand under my shirt, fingers tentative on my skin.
“I love your hands on me,” I assure her.
She grips my chin in her free hand, teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she searches my eyes. “I really like you.”
“I really like you, too.”
“I don’t want to stop kissing you.”
“Me neither.” I skim her cheek with a single finger. “Tell me what else you want, sweetheart.”
“For you to keep calling me that.”
I grin. “I can do that.”
She rocks over me, whimpering again.
“What else?” I bite the edge of her jaw. “Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know. I’m achy.”
“Do you need some relief?”
She swallows thickly. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You’re not. We’re here because we both want to be. I’m asking what you need, and I want you to be honest.” I pepper her throat and jaw with more kisses.
“I want to be under you,” she whispers.
I curve an arm around her waist and gently flip us over, settling into the cradle of her hips. “Like this?”
“Yeah.” Her hands move to my hair again and then she smooths them down my back. “Yes.” She curves a palm over my ass and tips her hips up. “I want to feel the weight of you on top of me.”
I press into her, and her eyes flutter closed. “Does that feel good?” I murmur against her cheek.
“God, yes.” She hooks her leg over my hip.
I suck her bottom lip. “Tell me what else you need, Ophelia?”
“More kissing, please.”
“So polite. I like it.” I slant my mouth over hers and roll my hips in time to the sweeping of our tongues. Her moans grow deeper, needier. Her nails bite into my skin.
“Oh God, Mac. That feels—” She arches and gasps.
“Feels what?” I anchor my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging until her eyes open. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I think maybe—” Her brows tighten.
“You think maybe you could come even without me touching you?” I whisper.
“I-I don’t know.” She shifts under me. “Maybe?”
“Tell me what you need so I can get you there.” I suck her bottom lip.
“I’m not sure. Just don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she begs.
“Not until you come,” I promise.
I slide a hand under her hip, pressing down hard, rolling my hips faster, wringing pretty sounds from her soft lips.
“Oh my God, Mac.” Her knees clamp against my hips, as she arches and trembles under me.
“You’re beautiful when you’re coming for me,” I grind out.
The sight of her unraveling for me, the feel of her body under me, the sweet moans and pulse between her thighs tip me over the edge. I shudder and groan, burying my face in her neck as I come, too.