Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“You’ve had a big day.” His knuckles tenderly glide down my neck. “We don’t have to do this. We could . . .” His eyes drift to the contemporary four-poster bed behind me, with a dozen pillows, its linens snowy white.
“Cuddle?” I pinch in a delighted smile. “Go on, say it. Make it sound convincing.”
“And you think I shouldn’t talk.” He frowns. “We could order room service and watch a film?”
I laugh—he looks so out of his element. Try as I might, I cannot see this man watching a rom-com, chowing down on french fries. With a tiny throb of longing, I realize I would not kick him out of bed for making crumbs.
“Are you trying to be my friend?”
“I did warn you I’m terrible at it.”
“I think you’re doing pretty well so far.”
“That’s because you can’t see into my head.” He gives the kind of sigh that makes his chest heave. “It’s a ruse. Subterfuge. You see, I still have every intention of getting you out of your underwear.”
“I have no idea why I like you.” His ego? That confidence? Because he’s super easy on the eyes? Especially almost shirtless. Maybe he would make a terrible friend, but I don’t really believe it. He put his whole day aside to be with me. He hasn’t judged, pried, or looked at me with pity. He saw beyond the sad story dressed in lace and made me feel like myself.
“Perverse.” Reaching out, he hooks a finger around my ear as though sliding away a curl. “You really shouldn’t.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I whisper, leaning back against the bedpost.
“As if I’d dare presume.” His eyes dip as I slip my finger into the waistband of his pants. He presses his hand over mine, sliding it lower to the thick outline of his cock.
“Liar.”
His dark glance slices up, and heat slicks between my hips. His eyes turn midnight as I fasten my fingers over his thick outline, and he hums a masculine sound as he leans in. Our mouths meet, his tongue dark and clever as it licks into me. Kissing, kissing, but then I’m hauling in a breath as he breaks the kiss. His breathing doesn’t seem much easier than mine, those violet eyes almost black now.
“Turn around.” His words are rough, almost a command. I dip my head, not wanting to share what they do to me, and fight a shiver as he moves my hair over my shoulder. He sets his fingers to the buttons running down the back of my dress, my body instinctively undulating into his touch.
“Stop squirming.” The point of his tongue flicks lightly at my bared nape.
“When you stop teasing.” Need rushes through my veins in a sweet, urgent agony at the press of his teeth. Several torturous moments later, my dress parts from my skin, my breath catching as he slides it from my ribs.
I stare at the lace as it pools on the floor when he turns me to face him again.
“What’s the verdict?” Maybe vanity prompts me to ask, because the way his eyes devour me will be forever burned into my brain.
“Exquisite.” His gaze meets mine, full of heat and promise.
“Worth the money?” I’d thought my choice achingly pretty. A delicate demi-cup bra shaped like oyster shells, a garter belt to hug my hips, and tiny, triangular panties. And of course, silk stockings.
“It’s not the lingerie.” His finger trails my collarbone, then down between my breasts. Slipping into the gauzy cup, he bares my nipple. “No need to gild the lily,” he whispers as he lowers his head. My insides turn fiery, his words blowing across my skin. “Or paint the perfect pearl.”
I whimper as his tongue licks the pebble of my nipple. My body convulses, my next breath ragged as he sucks it hotly into his mouth. Anticipation washes across my skin, the attention he lavishes resonating sharply between my legs.
“You’re so lovely. So delicate.” His fingers make manacles of my wrists, pulling my hands above my head. “Bones so easily broken.” He folds my fingers around the bedpost behind me. “But your spirit? Not so.”
His words and the reassuring squeeze bring tears prickling to my eyes. But as he settles his hand between my legs, my thoughts scatter. With one swift tug, he rips my gossamer panties from my body.
He drops to his knees, and oh, my. I close my eyes to the sight of his dark head as he presses his mouth to me. I cry out, my spine arching at the first swipe of his tongue.
“You’re so sweet.” His compliment washes through me like a shower of stars. His tongue finds my clit. Circling, petting, loving. “So wet and pretty and all for me.” Oliver’s hand slides behind my knee, lifting it to his shoulder as his fingers spear me, as he whispers the kind of compliments I never thought to hear. “That’s it, darling.” He grunts, working me rougher, faster. Making me wetter. “You’re so close.”