Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
This extent of power wasn’t something he’d had before. No dominant would give him that level of control—it just wasn’t in their makeup. He got it. Because it wasn’t in his.
But it was in Quinley’s, and he fucking loved that.
Dipping his head, he tipped up her own and caught her bottom lip between his teeth; gave it a demanding tug. “Open.” She parted her lips, and he delved right in. Licked into her mouth. Took her taste inside him, let it mark him.
He kept the kiss soft, lazy, and sensual. Fluid as liquid.
As she rose on her tiptoes for more, he flicked the tip of her canine with his tongue to stir up her cat, wanting her raring to bite. Quinley’s lavender-and-vanilla scent took on a feral note; telling him her animal was very near the surface. It snagged his cat’s attention.
Isaiah broke the kiss, drinking in the need-drunk look on her face. “Now”—he fingered the soft material of her jumpsuit—“take it off.”
Quinley blinked, pulled out of her daze by the punch of dominance in his voice. She watched as he backed up a step and folded his arms, his expression molded into a mask of absolute authority. Her mindset shifted that easily—she took a mental step back, let her brain power down, and focused on only him as she lowered the side-zipper of her jumpsuit.
His gaze burned with approval. “Good girl.”
Excitement tumbling in her belly, she peeled down the suit and let it puddle at her feet. Her bra went next, then her panties. His gaze tracked her every move, his focus steady and unshifting. Once she’d kicked off her heels, she used her foot to slide the pile aside.
She looked up at him … and immediately became immobilized by the dangerous predatory heat that gleamed in his gaze. Sparks of tension prickled the air and skipped along her bare skin. She’d never felt more exposed, naked, or aware of herself.
He began to circle her, reaching out to let the pads of his fingers idly trace, press, glide, and tease. His touch was light but transmitted pure avarice and male ownership.
“So much to play with.” There was more grit in his voice than usual, turning it throaty. “You are beautiful, do you know that?” A distracted question. He was busy shaping and palming her ass.
A shaky breath shuddered out of her. Already she was damp, anticipation winding her tight and gnawing at her patience.
Still behind her, he suckled on the crook of her neck. “I think I’ll put my claiming brand right here. You’re going to wear it with pride, just as I will yours.”
“Isaiah.” It was a plea.
“You never have to beg me, Quinley,” he assured her. “I won’t ever ask that of you. I want you to trust that I’ll give you what you need … even though I might not give it to you straight away.”
Again, he circled her. This time, he didn’t only explore with his fingers. He sucked on a nipple. Drew his teeth over the other. Nipped at her shoulder. Scored his blunt nails down her back. Briefly slipped a finger between her slick folds.
Basically, he teased her body into a state of such agonized suspension that her legs trembled. She couldn’t be sure her knees wouldn’t give out on her.
Finally, Isaiah came to stand before her once more. His arresting gaze held hers as he deftly undid the fly of his slacks and backed her toward the bed. He lowered his face closer to hers, pausing with his mouth mere inches from her own. “Get me wet.”
She looked down to see his cock was now free, jutting upward. It was long and full. Thicker than she was used to.
Quinley sat on the bed and curled her fingers around the base of his cock. Warm and hard, it pulsed in her grip. She took him into her mouth and licked around his shaft.
“Eyes up, Quinley.”
She lifted her gaze just as he flicked open the top button of his shirt. He didn’t once break eye-contact as he tackled the buttons, and she never once stopped sucking him in and out of her mouth. She kept the suction tight, took him deep, and—noting he liked it—deliberately let the head bump the back of her throat again and again.
Finally, Isaiah shed his shirt and dumped it on her pile of clothes. Damn, his body was just sheer male strength. Flat abs, defined muscle, impressive ink.
His fingers burrowed into her hair gently. So gently. And then they grabbed a tight fistful of it and tugged. “Up.”
Inwardly wincing at the sting to her scalp, she rose to her feet.
His eyes moved over her face, pure male greed simmering there. “Another time, I’m going to fuck this face.” He let go of her hair. “And that pretty throat.” He slowly twirled his finger, his expression one of expectation.