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)
“No.” I moan aloud like that’s somehow more convincing. “I can’t—”
“Yes, for me you can.” His tongue swirls my clit, and I practically levitate from the marble. He sucks, and his teeth threaten, his attentions rougher this time around, somehow matching the swell of desperation inside me.
I curse as I slide my hand into his hair, wanting to share this pleasured pain, this sublime torment as I begin to buck into his face.
“That’s it, give yourself to me.”
It’s too much—an overload of sensation I can barely take. But I do take. I take it all as Luc pleasures me with his mouth and with his compliments, his true thoughts revealed in soft bursts of French.
You make me feel delirious.
I want you out of my thoughts and into my bed.
Jesus, what are you doing to me?
His name on my lips is a plea for mercy as he suddenly thrusts two fingers inside me, curling them to stroke that secret place that makes my skin feel electrified. I cry out as I press into his hand, thrust for thrust, my cries reverberating through the cavernous space.
“That’s it. Let me drown in you.”
My insides quicken, and my body begins to convulse as something sleek and hot rushes through me. I cry out, my climax unceasing.
I come to with a mewling sigh thanks to the last lingering stroke of his tongue. I watch almost out of myself as he stands, his hair a mess from my hands, and his mouth smeared lewdly with my pleasure.
My God, he is beautiful.
“Not a fluke,” he says, not without a little smugness. Or a ton of the stuff. He wipes the back of his hand across his wet mouth and even that elicits another round of pulsing. “And you’ll stay for the month.”
I push up onto my elbows, thoughtless words escaping from my mouth. “After that performance, you might never get rid of me. I mean—” My brain is three parts mush, no gray matter. “But I counted twice.”
He makes to dip but not before I bring my knees together. “No!” I sound truly panicked.
He’s no less smug as he cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer. “Give me your mouth, Primevère.”
I feel his smile and can taste myself in his kisses. It’s not odd, exactly, just—
“Oh!”
He pulls me upright, and I slide my arms around his neck. Quite suddenly, I can feel him pressed quite solidly between my legs.
And I did that to him. Me.
Gosh, is he really that big?
He gives a sandpapery sigh as his arms wrap around my back, my breasts pressed to his very solid chest. Heat flickers through me as he holds me there. I grab his T-shirt between his shoulder blades and pull, and he chuckles as I struggle to drag it over his head. He isn’t laughing as I slide my hand down the hard plains of his stomach, or when I tug on the waistband of his shorts.
“Primevère.” He captures my questing fingers. “I don’t have condoms here.”
“I just want to”—I can’t believe I’m about to admit this—“see.”
Oh, the cringe.
“Then come to bed with me,” he whispers oh-so temptingly. His teeth graze the lobe of my ear, and I give a little sigh, but I already have the button open. It would be a shame not to—
“Oh!” My gaze jolts upward to his. Shock, I think. Disbelief? “You don’t have any underwear on.” Good save, I think.
“I’m aware.” His dark taunt curls around me like smoke, his smile pressed into my hair.
“And you’re—” I clamp my lips together.
“I’m what?”
“Nothing.” And by nothing, I mean hung like a fucking horse!
“Come to bed with me,” he whispers again. “Come upstairs, and I’ll let you tell me all the things I’m not.”
“Like modest and humble?”
“Immune to you.”
My heart goes pitter-pat, even though I wasn’t supposed to understand.
“Chicken,” I taunt, dipping my head so he can’t see the width of my smile. Everyone wants to be wanted, but to be craved? It’s something else. Something I’ve never experienced.
“You don’t like it when I speak French?”
“How is that even a question?”
And he doesn’t supply an answer. Not as I drag my fingers down the hard planes of his stomach, muscles contracting under my fingertips, taut and warm.
I take him in my hand, and his shuddering groan is everything. Satin over steel, his isn’t the first penis I’ve ever touched, but it is the first I’ve ached to feel inside me.
No, not his penis, my mind whispers. His cock. Nothing so real and so huge and so rude should be referred to as anything else.
His cock. I give an experimental tug, and he groans, his eyes shuttering as I lightly graze my fingertips over the silky head.
“Fuck.” His throat works with a deep swallow. “Yeah. Harder. Tighten your grip.”
“Say please.” Wow, where did that come from?