Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Instantly, I became sopping wet (full disclosure, that started happening the second I saw him in the doorway).
Now it was me who was frozen with Handsome Harry Moran standing shirtless in my bedroom, his magnificent chest on display.
We stared at each other (okay, we did that after I made the superhuman effort to tear my eyes off his chest).
Then he lunged.
His long, heavy, hard body covered mine, and he kissed me.
I knew immediately this was different.
This wasn’t hunger. This wasn’t carnal.
This was voracious. It was unbridled.
His kiss was consuming. There wasn’t room to think. Only to feel.
And damn, was I feeling things.
So many things.
Including his hands moving up my sides, his callouses catching on the chiffon and lace of my nightie, something so masculine, so Harry, just that made me quiver.
He suddenly gripped it, broke the kiss, and my arms were up, my hair was flying, as he pulled it off and tossed it aside.
He didn’t even look at my body. He came in for another kiss, and I hadn’t found myself in the seconds our lips weren’t fused, but I lost myself in his kiss again anyway.
His mouth moved from mine, down my neck, my chest, his hand curled around my breast, his lips closed over my nipple, and he drew so deeply, my pussy clenched, my back arched, and I whimpered.
He sucked and he sucked, and he sucked harder as I moaned, gliding my fingers in his hair, eventually losing control as the sensations he was causing overwhelmed me, and I fisted it in my fingers.
He moved to the other breast and did the same, his thumb dragging roughly across the nipple he left behind, doing this over and over again.
Oh my God, I was going to come with just this.
On that thought, Harry returned his attention to my mouth, and he was kissing me dizzy again, but his hand was tracking with intent over my ribs, the swell of my belly, and he didn’t mess around. No teasing, he dug right into the waistband of my panties, over the triangle of hair, and his fingers slid through my drenched folds.
Sensation rocketing through me, I mewed, but Harry growled at encountering what he was doing to me, and his weight left me.
I made a noise of protest that was cut short as, with no ado whatsoever (delicious!), Harry dragged my cute panties down my legs and threw them off the bed.
And then I watched in stupefied, turned-on fascination as his upper body undulated in a downward motion at the same time he grabbed the backs of my thighs.
He ended up on his stomach on the bed, my thighs thrown over his shoulders, I got a single second of the ridiculously sexy vision of his thick dark hair between my legs, then his mouth was on me.
I dug my heels in his back, my head in the pillows as Harry went at me with his mouth.
And that was the only way to describe it.
He went at me.
Good Lord.
He really knew how to do this.
“Harry,” I panted, squirming and arching and rubbing against him.
It was going to happen, I was going to come, and it was going to be insane.
Harry stopped eating me.
No!
My head shot up.
“Honey,” I whimpered.
“Shh,” he soothed, now even sexier, looking up my body at me, the brown in his eyes liquid chocolate. He was using one finger to circle my clit in a maddening way that was both sweet and hot, but not hot enough.
“I—”
He dipped in again and fed.
Yes.
It didn’t take long before he took me there again.
And right before I slid over the edge, he stopped, moved up and kissed my mound.
And again, my head shot up.
“Baby,” I begged.
He grinned.
Oh my God!
I was going to kill him.
I was about to tell him that when he went down on me again.
Oh yes, this was good. So good. Soooooooo sooooo good.
He stopped again.
“Harry!” I snapped.
But this time, he left the bed, and I knew by the look on his face playtime was over for Harry (and I already knew it was way over for me).
I knew it more when he undid his uniform trousers and pulled them down with his boxer briefs.
And I got a full view of the entirety of what made Handsome Harry Moran, Handsome Harry Moran.
His cock wasn’t too long, it wasn’t too thick.
It was just right.
And those thighs?
I shivered.
He stepped free of his trousers and hesitated.
I didn’t understand why, then I did.
Knowing his history, I’d planned for this, thinking with the way he wanted to take care of me (no matter what scrumptiousness happened on my kitchen table the day before), he might not have planned, so he might not be prepared.
I reached under the pillow, pulled the line of condoms out, sat up and gave it to him.
“Christ, baby,” he said, his voice deep, guttural, so much so, it was like an exquisite touch.