Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
I gasped and pulled the soft duvet between my fingers.
“You’ve got the hottest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said, climbing onto the mattress between my legs and staring there now, too.
My stomach clenched.
I wanted to roll away or cover up. I wanted to die.
And in the same breath, I didn’t. I wanted this more.
Jamie lifted his eyes to me. “You wax?”
I nodded.
“Always keep it bare?”
I swallowed thickly, then nodded again.
“Like that, babe,” he said, eyes darkening as he shifted closer, hands sliding up my shins, over my knees to my thighs.
I started shaking.
“Jamie,” I whispered.
He leaned over me, bracing his hands beside my shoulders and lowering, letting me feel the weight of his body. The pressure of him moved in waves, starting at my hips, stomach, chest, the tops of my shoulders, until he covered me completely.
It was comfortable and it wasn’t.
I wasn’t a small woman. I was average height, five foot six, and the rest of me was average, too. I wasn’t super skinny. I had meat on my bones and extra meat in certain areas. My butt filled out my jeans and I had to buy large tops on occasion because of my breasts, even though I was built for mediums.
I wasn’t pint-sized and petite. I wasn’t skinny by any means, but beneath Jamie, I felt tiny. Delicate.
He was huge and I was under him, wondering how long it would take him to break me.
When he dropped his head and kissed my shoulder, I stopped wondering and worrying and clutched at him instead, holding on to skin that felt like sunlight and smelled familiar. I gripped at the muscles in his back. I trailed my fingers up the line of his spine and curled them around his narrow hips.
Jamie rocked forward and pressed into me, leaning away and then bending to take my mouth and the moan I was giving him.
“You ready?” he asked, hot against my lips.
I nodded and whispered, “Yes.” Then I braced myself. Because if Jamie asked whether or not I was ready, I knew that meant he was done being slow and accommodating.
He was ready to take. He was ready to push my face into the mattress and make my skin flush under his hand.
He was ready to fuck.
So when Jamie leaned back and ducked his head beside me, kissing my other shoulder and moving down my arm with his mouth, my body stiffened. I was confused.
He wasn’t rushing to grab a condom and flip me over. He wasn’t making me cry out while he made me forget.
He kissed my biceps and the bend in my elbow. The back of my forearm and the inside of my wrist. He opened my hand and pressed a kissed to my palm, and when he moved over each of my fingers, sliding his own between them, I had to ask.
“What are you doing?”
Head turned, I watched Jamie draw my thumb into his mouth and suck. I clenched my thighs around him.
“He touch you here?” he asked, kissing the back of my hand and moving higher, lips tickling every inch of my skin. Sometimes just his breath.
I couldn’t answer Jamie because I knew what he was doing. And I couldn’t believe he was doing it.
Every part of me that touched Wes or had been touched by him, Jamie was touching. He kissed and he felt and he let his tongue taste. My other arm. Behind my ears. Over the curve in my ribs and the dip in my stomach.
“Here?”
My hipbones, he dragged his teeth as if he knew that was where Wes held me tight. Down my legs. The tops of my ankles. My feet.
“Here?”
On my stomach, I felt his hot tongue lick up my spine. He kissed the backs of my knees. He squeezed my ass and pressed his mouth there.
Jamie was erasing fingerprints and memories. He was replacing them with his own.
My breath hitched when he flipped me over again, palmed my breasts, and then bit them. I cried out.
My soft voice begged. Do it and again and again, Jamie, please.
He sucked on my nipples. He twisted them between his fingers and buried his face in my cleavage, cursing, “Fuck, baby,” as his hands shook.
I reached for him and whimpered when he sat back. I wanted more. His fingers in my hair and his teeth on my neck. “Please,” I whispered, arm outstretched and fingertips seeking.
Jamie held my gaze and moved his hand between my legs.
My eyes rolled closed.
“That motherfucker lick you here?”
My eyes flew open and I looked at Jamie after he spoke. I squirmed when he slid a finger inside me.
“Yes,” I whispered, in answer and in response to what he was doing.
He sank down.
I bent my knees up.
Every muscle in my body tensed.
Putting your mouth on a woman there, in my opinion, was a much more intimate act than sex. There was something profoundly personal about it. Hell, not all men even did it.