Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Together, with a gasp, we find it.
“Don’t move,” he orders once we both come down from our euphoric high.
“As if I could?” I laugh, and he walks away.
A few seconds later, he returns with a soft towel and cleans me off.
He’s so tender.
I hope this never ends.
42
Trent
* * *
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I mutter against her hair.
I know she’s up because her breathing has changed. It’s no longer rhythmic and peaceful. No, the change indicates—in true Payton fashion—she’s overanalyzing this. It stops and holds before picking up again.
She yawns, stretching her arms. “I thought I was Cinderella.”
“If I’m not mistaken, we decided you were the mouse,” I say in jest, and she turns her body around and swats at my chest.
I stop her hand, bring it up to my mouth, and place a long, soft kiss on her palm.
“Not so fast, Prince Charming.” She pulls her hand out of mine, grinning. “None of that . . .”
“None of what?” I say innocently, knowing exactly what she is talking about.
“None of that—” She gestures to the raging hard-on I have under the blanket. “Not before I brush my teeth.”
I roll my eyes at her, but I allow her to pull away and get off the bed. I give her a few minutes’ head start before I’m jumping out of bed and heading straight toward the bathroom to be with her.
I find her at the sink with my T-shirt covering her body. I like how she looks in my clothes, just as much as the first time I had her in my tee. I wait for her to turn the water off, stepping up beside her. When she’s done brushing her teeth, I’m leaning down and placing my mouth on hers.
Her breath now tastes like mint as I devour her in a kiss. She moans into it, her hands looping around my neck.
Without separating, I pick her up and walk her back toward the bedroom.
As much as I want to fuck her in this bathroom, I’m not sure she can stand that long, but then another idea hits me.
I move toward the counter.
As soon as I place her down on top, I lift my shirt up over her head. I’m thankful she never put underwear back on because this makes it so much easier.
I, however, still have pants on.
Something I need to remedy right now.
My hands work to remove them.
Our kiss remains unbroken as I lower them.
Her legs are wrapped around my waist, and I rummage around the counter to see if I can find the box of condoms.
Still kissing her, still looking, I mutter a curse against her lips. She moves her face away from me.
“I’m on the pill and clear.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, grabbing each side of her face. “I’m good, too.”
The next thing I do is align myself with her core.
With one quick thrust, I’m inside.
She gasps into my mouth at the sudden movement.
Then groans as I slowly pull back out.
This is my favorite thing to do.
Tease her.
Pushing myself in.
Slowly retracting.
It’s torture.
Not only for her but for me, too.
The way she wiggles into me makes me want to draw this out.
I stop my movements on the brink of re-entry and hold.
She’s lifting her hips, wordlessly begging me to bury myself deep inside her again.
I thrust deeply, impaling myself inside her, then pull out. My movements speed up.
In. Out.
In. Out.
Her breathing becomes frantic as I thrust myself inside her over and over again.
I’m so close.
She’s close, too.
I pick up the pace, lower my hand to where our bodies meet, and press my thumb as I need her to reach the other side of this frenzy.
My hips rock up. I thrust up one more time, hard and fast. I circle my thumb, bringing her closer and closer. Then she buries her head in my neck, and she tightens around me as she moans my name.
My speed increases until I’m joining her in sweet release.
43
Trent
* * *
We have been living in a happy bubble for the last three weeks.
Payton’s foot is healed, as is her rib.
She was damn lucky.
I’m even luckier.
Having her here has been the best time of my life.
I have to put a damper on it, though. I need to ask her a question I don’t want to ask.
She once made a comment about all the things that happened to her, and I need to know exactly what they were because today, we take Paul.
Payton is watching me. What she sees makes her brows furrow.
“What’s got you so stressed?” she asks.
I continue to stare at her, hating to disrupt the peace we have cocooned ourselves in. “I have something to ask you.”
“Okay.” Her voice is low, belying her concern about what I’m going to ask.
Maybe, like me, she doesn’t want the real world brought into my room.
“You mentioned I was stalking you . . .”