Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Oh!” Everything contracts as his body arches against mine. “Oh God.” My fingers wrap his bicep where it bulges from under his sleeve.
“A crying shame,” he rasps through gritted teeth. “Spread your legs for me, darling.” He slides his hand under my thigh, impatiently pulling me open.
I cry out as he rocks into me—he feels so big. Everywhere. His shoulders above me, his strong thighs between mine, the feeling of him, so hard and so hot, pressed between my legs. Even his lashes are thick, his studying eyes as blue as the ocean and just as easy to get lost in. And those lips, they’re just begging to be kissed. Only we haven’t, I realize. I slide my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to rectify the matter. To taste him.
“You have the mouth of a hedonist.”
“Was that a hint?” His whisper is pure taunt. “That I should put it to good use.”
“It would be a shame to waste it.” He makes as though to slide down my body when I tighten my thighs around his back. He can’t want to do that. More to the point, I can’t let him. Not after the night I’ve had. “Kiss me,” I demand, arching from the bed and rocking against him.
“Fuck.” His curse is so ragged around the edges, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he drops down to meet me. “I can feel the heat of your cunt. I want to taste it.”
Base words and temptations are the hottest kind of praise. I cry out, straining to get closer as every part of me awakens, from the hairs on my head to this deep pulsing need. “Oh God, Niko. I’m going to—”
“Yes, my sweet, sweet girl, you are.” His low sexual rasp ricochets through me. “Let me do this right next time and take you to dinner.” His hand comes between us, slipping into my underwear, his thumb swiping over my wet clit. “Let me take you home.” He rubs, and I writhe, heated, harsh breaths filling the space between us. Another swipe, a flick, as he slides a little lower, undulating against me. “I’ll taste your sweetness. I’ll fucking devour you.”
Oh God. His words. His touch. The wet sound of my pleasure. Niko grunts as I press my teeth into his chest, the sensation spreading through me and robbing me of sense. I fall, my body clenching through a wave of heat and ecstasy.
My head hits the pillow, and I smile. Dry humping in my teenage bedroom. Who’d have thought it would be so much fun? I stretch out, my muscles tingling in their satisfaction, finding … the one muscle apparently lacking in satisfaction.
He’s so hard. I try not to laugh, though I do wiggle a bit. “Sorry.”
Niko settles himself a little lower with a groan. “You’re really not sorry at all.”
I am too replete to be embarrassed.
“Not to be too indelicate, but why didn’t you want to…”
“Fuck you?”
“So indelicate,” I complain with a huff.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” His brows lower, his face stern. “I just want—”
“Izzy?” Thumping footsteps sound from the hallway as a deep voice calls my name. “Izzy, can you hear me?” The door to the adjoining room opens, then slams closed with a bang. “Where the hell are you?”
“Oh, sh-shivers!” I press my palms against Niko’s shoulders. “Hide, quickly!” I hiss, attempting to thrust his large body from mine. “If he finds you here…”
“Who?” Confusion ripples over Niko’s expression as his gaze flies to the door as three sharp knocks rattle against it.
“Are you in here?”
“Wait!” I sort of screech, taking in the sudden wide-eyed expression of the man above me. “Just a minute.” I shove again, and this time, he budges.
His knee hits the floor as he curses, his leg sliding out from under him.
“Get under the bed,” I frantically whisper, ignoring how he looks as though he’s about to laugh. “Please.” My relief is short-lived as he reluctantly drops out of sight because my brother’s voice heralds the door swinging open.
“What the hell, Izzy.”
“Hey! I haven’t got any clothes on,” I yell back.
“What!” Sandy bellows.
If I thought that would help, I’m sorely mistaken as the door rebounds from the doorstop not a second before I grab Niko’s T-shirt and shove it over the side of the bed before grabbing the sheet.
“I’m going to tear that pink fucker limb from limb,” my brother, Sandy, growls, appearing in the room like a Viking berserker. “They said you were okay!”
“I’m fine,” I protest. “I’m only naked because I was sick everywhere.” I pause. “Who said I was okay?”
“Does it matter?” Sandy takes my face in his hands, his eyes falling over my expression as though they might find the opposite of fine. “But you’re well? Not hurt? What did the doctor say?”