Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Something flared in his eyes. Hunger followed closely by something that looked suspiciously like relief? That couldn’t be right. Why would he be relieved? Then he was kissing me again as he guided my hands, helping me with the buttons. Each inch of exposed skin revealed a canvas of muscle and subtle scars that spoke of a life I knew nothing about. I traced a particularly jagged mark that cut across his collarbone, and he shivered under my touch.
"Bedroom," he murmured against my throat. I gasped as he bent to lift me, his hands going under my ass to lift me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he carried me through the penthouse with surprising ease. All the way, he kissed and nipped my neck, chin, and finally settled on my ear.
His bedroom continued the theme of understated luxury, but it all barely registered beyond the massive bed with charcoal sheets. There were windows revealing the glittering cityscape, and ambient lighting that cast everything in a warm glow. He laid me on the bed with unexpected tenderness, standing back to look at me sprawled across his sheets.
"You're beautiful," he said, the simple declaration carrying weight because of the man who spoke it. Dario Luca, who could have anyone, was looking at me like I was precious.
He stripped off his shirt fully, revealing a torso marked by both careful muscle and the evidence of violence. Scars I couldn't begin to understand the origins of criss-crossed his torso and upper arms. I reached for him, and he came to me, his weight settling over me with delicious pressure. "I want to see you," he whispered against my ear, his hands finding the hem of my shirt again.
I nodded, suddenly shy despite my eagerness. He pulled the shirt over my head with excruciating slowness, his gaze darkening as he took in my simple cotton bra. No fancy lingerie for me. I hadn't expected anyone to see this tonight. Or ever, really. At least not until I was secure enough in my life to let someone else in. I could barely make rent most months, so dating wasn’t even a conversation.
"Fucking perfect," he said, as if reading my insecurity. He traced the curve of my waist, my chest, the undersides of my breasts with reverent attention that made me arch into his touch, as I let out an embarrassing whimper.
The rest of our clothes fell away with increasing urgency. I shrugged out of my jeans as Dario peeled them down my legs. Once free, I got up on my knees, reaching for the waistband of his expensive trousers and unbuttoning them with fumbling fingers. I wanted to grab the waist to his pants and underwear and shove them off his hips but I wasn’t that bold.
Each newly exposed inch of skin became territory to explore, to taste. His mouth trailed fire everywhere he touched me. He moved down the valley between my breasts and across my stomach as I writhed beneath him.
Once he’d climbed up on the bed with me, Dario reached up my body and undid the front clasp of my bra before hooking his thumbs in the waist of my bikini panties, sliding them down my legs in one smooth motion.
Dario sat back on his heels, his gaze locked between my thighs as he trailed his hands from my knees to my ankles, taking his time, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to devour me or worship me. My skin prickled everywhere he touched. I shivered, nerves and want tangling together so tight I could barely breathe.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, voice rough enough to scrape skin. “Spread your legs for me, Belle. Let me see that beautiful pussy.”
I whimpered, his dirty words shooting through me like a punch to the gut. My body obeyed before my brain could catch up, my thighs parting under his command. I lay spread out, wide open to the chill of the air and the scorching heat of his eyes. He reached out, running a thumb up the inside of my thigh. I whimpered, hating how desperate I already sounded, but the anticipation was killing me. I wanted his mouth. I wanted his hands. I wanted all of him. Every. Single. Inch.
“You want me here, don’t you?” He pressed his thumb right where my clit throbbed and ached, right against my clit. “Want me to eat your pussy until you scream?”
“God, yes,” I managed, hips twitching like a needy idiot. Absolutely shameless. But I didn’t care. Couldn’t care. “So much!”
He lowered his head, his hair brushing against my thigh as he inhaled. He closed his eyes and looked nearly intoxicated as some kind of euphoria enveloped him.
He was going to eat me alive. The thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks and made my nipples tighten almost painfully. Dario lowered his head, mouth barely an inch from my pussy, and the bastard just breathed me in. Eyes closed, jaw clenched. Like just the scent of me was a religious experience. “Fuck, Belle. You smell so fucking good. Sweeter than any Goddamn thing I’ve ever known.” His voice was gravel. He looked up, caught me watching, and just… grinned. Wolfish. Starving.