Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“You’ve been playing since we met.”
“As of now, the game is over.” Turning my back on the three of them, I flee Sebastian’s house, gripping my coat as I run for modesty’s sake.
I’m in full flight mode, the trip from his floor to mine passing in a frenzied blur. Part of me fears they’re coming after me.
Sebastian or Liam. Or both.
Barging into the House of Gemini, I make my way toward my suite. Adrenaline rushes through my veins, and I shed my coat and drape it over a Victorian chair on my way to the ottoman at the end of the bed. My legs refuse to support me any longer, and I crumble.
My erratic breaths charge the air. Sweat lingers on my skin from the mad dash to privacy. My breasts heave in the bodice of the teddy.
I want the scant evidence off my body, shoved in the bottom of the dresser where it should have stayed. This failed attempt at seduction rails through me with equal amounts of shame and frustration, because I’m too much of a trembly mess to make it to my feet long enough to remove the offending garment.
Five minutes haven’t passed when I detect the sound of a door opening. I don’t hear it shut, but the footsteps that follow tells me someone is inside Landon’s home, and it sounds like they’re nearing my private quarters.
Another noticeable turn of a door handle confirms my suspicion, and as those footfalls make their way toward my bedroom, where I left the door partially open, I fear I know who it is.
A jean-clad silhouette looms in the doorway, outlined in a halo of light from the hall. Shadows and heightened emotions settle over my bedroom.
He holds up a pair of stilettos. “You forgot these.”
I can’t speak as he takes a step into the room where I sleep. I wouldn’t know what to say if I tried.
“I had to threaten Liam with a charge of impropriety to keep him from coming in after me.” He drops the shoes by the door. “You’ve got the chancellor wrapped, princess.”
Finally, I find my voice. “How did you get in?”
“Walked in, the same way you did when you barged into my meeting.”
I’m usually better at locking the main door, especially since I’m here alone. Landon doesn’t keep permanent staff on hand, preferring to employ a weekly housekeeper instead. Which means it’s just me at night…on a floor sandwiched between too many men with hidden agendas.
“I’m sorry about tonight.” With a gulp, I find his eyes in the darkness—a blue luminescence from the moonlight spilling through the windows. “I wanted to be brave.”
“Bullshit. You wanted to avoid going down on me around other people.” He closes the distance between us, only stopping when he’s inches away from brushing my knees. “You don’t think I’ve seen you duck in and out of your studio these past few days?”
My eyes widen. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because you didn’t see me.” He leans down, propping himself on the mattress behind me, and I veer back to avoid contact with his warm, muscular chest.
Because the very essence of him surrounds me, his arms caging me in, the earthy scent of whatever soap he uses filling my nostrils, the intensity of his gaze as it locks with mine. The air between us is heavy with sexual tension, heady with longing, about to bust through the seams of any lingering resistance.
“But you see me now.” He sends a leisurely glance down my body. “So this is what you were hiding underneath that coat.”
It’s not a question. He saw through me the instant his focus landed on me in his house.
“Do you like it?”
“Princess…there’s not a man alive who wouldn’t.” The space between us narrows. “We have unfinished business,” he says as his mouth heats my own.
“What are you waiting for?”
Further prompting isn’t needed. He pulls his T-shirt off and tosses it at on the floor. “Get on your hands and knees.”
I look at the space in front of his feet, confusion furrowing my brows, and he tilts my chin up. “On the bench.”
As he unbuttons his jeans, I settle into the pose he wants. The short legs on the ottoman puts me at the perfect height to take his cock into my mouth. My hair hangs around my face, a frame for his sexual canvas.
I glance up, darting my tongue across my bottom lip.
“Jesus,” he mutters as he pulls down his zipper. “Those lips, Novalee.” Wrapping a hand around his erection, he strokes it from base to tip. His thumb swipes the crown and comes away with the evidence of his desire on the pad of that digit, and he pushes it between my lips.
That first taste of him…
The saltiness on his skin.
A flavor that belongs to Sebastian alone.
It’s decadent sin.