Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says evenly, before focusing on her sweater.
I can’t help but smile because I know she’s lying.
I lean in until my mouth is at her ear. “Did you touch yourself?”
She sucks in her breath sharply and turns to face me again, but I’m fast, and once again acting on pure impulse.
I have to kiss her.
My hands cup her face, my fingers pressing into her high cheekbones, and I’m covering her mouth with mine.
She gasps against my lips, her hands going up to my chest, but instead of pushing me away, they rest there. My mouth coaxes hers open, the kiss deepening, widening, letting me in to where she’s so soft and warm and wet. It feels familiar and new and freeing at the same time, sending shock waves through my body like lightning strikes.
Her fingers curl around my collar, holding me while I kiss her, hunger freely flowing between us, about to turn into a raging inferno. I’m rock-hard and I’m pressing her against the sink, making sure she can feel every long thick inch of me on her hip.
A breathless little moan escapes her, our mouths moving in tandem, the kiss turning wilder, violent, messy. Fuck, I’ve needed this. A chance to redeem myself if nothing else.
Then she pulls back, breathing hard, her eyes wild as she takes me in.
“James,” she says, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t…this doesn’t erase what you did.”
My throat feels pinched, my hands disappearing into her hair, the strands like silk between my fingers. “I know it doesn’t. I’m not trying to erase it, I…”
Well, fuck. What am I trying to do, then?
I lick my lips, tasting her on them, wanting to kiss her again. I lean in, meeting her eyes, and speak the truth. “I just want to be with you.”
“We can’t,” she says. But when I drive my erection into her farther, her eyes flutter shut. “Fuck, James, you’re making this hard.”
A laugh catches inside me. “Can’t get much harder, love.”
I make a fist in her hair, pulling it lightly, remembering how much she loved that.
She drops the paper towels and the sweater into the sink, her neck and back arching for more. My hand goes to her breast, fingers curling around the edges of the lace and pulling it back, exposing her nipple, already pebble-hard. I dip my head, pulling it between my lips until she’s moaning loudly, her hands finding their way to my hair now.
Fuck, I want to be inside her, any way I can. I slide my palm down over the curves of her stomach, popping open the button on her jeans, before continuing the dive down below until my fingers dip beneath the soft cotton of her underwear, already a little damp.
“Jesus, Laila,” I swear against her breast, licking up over her skin until I’m at her neck, biting gently as my fingers begin to stroke her clit. She’s so wet and soft, I think I might just lose my mind if I don’t get inside her soon enough.
But first I want to make her come on my hand, right here, right now. I want to watch her as she lets go, feel her around me.
“Tell me you heard me this morning,” I murmur below her ear, my fingers rubbing her faster and faster until I ease back and plunge a finger inside her.
She gasps, clenching around me, her grip in my hair growing tight. “I heard you,” she whispers, voice choked.
“Did you touch yourself?”
I feel her swallow against my tongue as I lick across her throat, pushing up another finger into her.
“No,” she manages to say.
“You wanted to.”
“You wanted me to,” she answers.
I grin, leaving kisses against her jaw, my mouth finding its way to her lips as a third finger is pushed inside her. “I did. But since I’m touching you now, this more than makes up for it. Don’t you think?”
She answers with a groan, her legs trying to spread wider in her jeans, but I like how tight it is for my hand as I work at her, my thumb skirting over her clit.
“Oh fuck me,” she cries out, fingernails digging into my scalp.
“I’m going to, love,” I tell her. “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you so hard the whole restaurant will wish they spilled wine on themselves too.”
And then her body begins to seize up, a sharp inhale hitching in her throat, and then she’s coming. I keep my eyes glued on her face, loving how beautiful she looks, like she’s opening herself to the heavens. I’m the one who makes her look like this, feel like this, like she’d fall to her knees if I wasn’t keeping her up.
She continues to shake and squeeze around my fingers, her fingers relaxing in my hair, her breath labored.