Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Her mouth opens to the pressure of mine. It’s a delicately first meeting that melts into tease and want and hot, aching breath as I gain carnal knowledge of her mouth.
The best kind of kissing.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispers.
“Seducing you.” I kiss my way down her neck as her fingers slip into my hair. I grunt as she pulls the strands, the resultant hot throb lighting me up inside, the moment intensifying as a consequence. “Is it working?”
“It’s madness.” She shivers as my hand span her ribs, sliding the soft cotton of her T-shirt higher. I growl when I find bare skin. “Is that why you brought me to Spain? Because you think about that night? About me?”
My hand halts. I pull back, and her expression reminds me of how she looked in my Paris office. Chin high. Haughty. Unapologetic.
How lovely she’ll look on her knees.
“You are here because you tried to force my hand.” She swallows a gasp as my thumbs slide up the soft underside of her full breasts, finding her nipples. “And I’m a very, very sore loser.”
Her laughter is velvet dark as she relaxes. Melts. Gives an almost breathless moan.
“But now that we find ourselves here…” My voice sounds hoarse as I press into her, my cock notching instinctively where she’s hot. “In this kitchen, this moment, it would be a shame to let it pass.”
Her gaze turns wary. “I can’t spend a month in this house with you after you find you can’t… that.”
I give a soft chuckle.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s cute that you think so.” My left hand trails lower, my thumb ghosting between her legs. “Je veux te bouffer la chat,” I whisper roughly, my grip on the moment turning tenuous.
“I know what chat is,” she whispers, her body chasing my touch.
“Then you should also know I want to eat it. Lick it. Suck on it until it’s shiny and slick and you’re writhing under me.”
“We don’t even get along.” This time, her words are almost all moan.
“Maybe that’s part of the magic.”
“God, I hope not. I don’t want to spend my life having sex with men I don’t like.”
“You like me,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her neck as I slide my thumbs along the inside of her thighs. “More than you care to admit.”
“You’re delusional,” she says, tipping her head back as though to deny the way she slightly opens her legs. “And this is a very bad idea.”
“Not true.”
“We shouldn’t—” Her body makes a pre-emptive motion, and my mouth begins to move before engaging my brain.
“If I can’t make you come, you can leave.” Her body jolts, her eyes a fiery flash as she pulls back a touch.
“Say that again.”
I don’t immediately answer as I slide my thumb across her luscious bottom lip, peeling it open a little. Her breath hitches. “If I can’t make your eyes roll to the back of your head.” I lick the seam. “If I can’t make you explode on my tongue a second time, right here, right now.” I deliver a teasing kiss. “You can go back to your life. To your vacation.” My words, my lips taunt. “And we won’t ever speak of what’s passed between us. Not to each other. Not to Emmy.
But when I do make you come.” I pull back a touch, and her body twists to mine like a flower seeking the sun. “When you’re wrung out and spent, and I’m wearing your scent like it’s my new cologne, you will stay for the whole month.”
Gambling is a fool’s pastime, unless you know the deck is stacked.
“A month,” she says with a soft, sensual laugh. “I already agreed to that.”
“But I want no more sullenness. And when I disprove your hypothesis, and if you’re a good little girl,”—I ignore the violent roll of her eyes—“I’ll show you all the ways you’re not broken by making you come again and again.”
“You’re absurd.” Yet her foot hooks behind me and slides up my thigh. Her softly pouting mouth is a provocation. The softening of her body is an invitation.
“Absurdly hard.” I tilt her back, pressing my lips once more to her neck. “Just as you’re wet for me now. Aching,” I add in a whisper, feathering kisses to her soft skin.
“You’re joking.” Her eyes are dark as she puts her hand to my chest. “Right?”
“I want you, Primrose. I’ve wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you, and every day since. The only thing that’s changed is that I don’t want to fight it any longer.”
21
PRIMROSE
I’m good, or I strive to be. But I’m neither little nor a girl. I also don’t understand why I’d allow him to call me such a thing. Or understand why my insides turned to marshmallow fluff when he did.
“Give me your mouth.”