Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I won’t leave. I suck in a breath and force myself to be determined. Whether what I’m doing is right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. I need a change.
A moment passes with the two of us standing still in front of his porch. Only a handful of steps are between us and his front door. I just have to get there.
My eyes drift from the deep navy door to Mason. I’m caught in place as he takes a single step closer to me. It’s only one step, but with it is something powerful. His height, his scent, and his very dominance overwhelm me when he’s this close. He radiates desire and my mind may be questioning things, but my body is pulled to him, magnetized by his presence.
It’s soothing. Surprisingly so as I let my body move forward, closing the small space between us. He trails a finger down my collarbone lightly, testing my reaction.
“I want to touch you, Jules,” he murmurs, forcing my gaze back to his all-consuming stare. I hadn’t imagined it’d be this intense. Not at the bar and not in his Mercedes. He didn’t push, and he didn’t do anything to make me feel trapped. How odd—now that we’re out in the open with no one watching and no enclosed spaces, it’s only now that I feel cornered. All because of the way he looks at me.
What’s most surprising is that I love it. I want this. The way he looks at me is addictive; it’s freeing in more ways than one.
I can’t wimp out. I won’t.
I nod my head once and his fingers trail up my throat. His light touch feels much rougher than he’s being with me. I tilt my head as his grip moves to my chin and he just barely brushes his lips against mine. It’s a soft kiss that leaves me wanting more. I keep my eyes closed and stay as still as can be when he hovers close and whispers, “I want to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me,” I whimper, a pathetic plea, or maybe one of strength. My head feels so clouded that it’s hard to know what’s driving me. Raw, primal instinct or desperation. Perhaps a lethal cocktail of both.
He pulls away just slightly, but I don’t let him get far. I take a half step closer to him, my breasts brushing against his shirt and I crash my lips into his. I need him. I need this.
He’s quick to wrap his arms around me and pull my body against his. The faint noises of the night surround us and they seem to get louder as my breathing gets heavier. His lips travel down my throat and I throw my head back. I may have been tipsy from the alcohol before but in this moment I’m drunk with lust, and I find it too difficult to care.
“I want to fuck you, Jules,” Mason practically growls. He pulls me into him suddenly and forces a gasp from me as he nips my earlobe. “I want to make you cum so hard you forget everything.”
I moan as my nipples harden and my back arches. “The only thing you need to worry about is remembering my name,” he whispers into my ear, his hands roaming down my waist, stopping at my ass. “Just my name and what I’ve done to you tonight.”
I tilt my head back and everything he’s saying is exactly what I need to hear. “Yes,” I say into the soft breeze that cools my exposed hot skin.
“Only tonight,” he says so low, I nearly miss it. My fingers slip under his shirt so I can feel his bare skin, and it triggers him to pull away from me. Just slightly, only so he can look into my eyes, but I grip him harder. I’m afraid to lose what he’s offering me.
I want him. I want his promise.
I want to forget and feel alive again.
“Yes, only tonight,” I say in agreement and then press my lips to his, moving a hand to the back of his head. My fingers spear through his thick hair as his tongue strokes mine and he lifts me into his arms by my ass.
I gasp at the sudden movement and wrap my legs around his waist. He takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses down my neck and torture my deprived body.
I’m sure of it now. All I need is to be held by this man. Fucked by him and ruined by him.
With my back against the wall of his porch, he slides a hand up my dress and between my legs. Petting me, testing me until the sudden spike of pleasure hits me harder than I expected. He presses his thumb against me just right and my grip on him tightens.
I come alive for him, every nerve ending on fire, ready to burst into a flame so hot I can’t control myself. He doesn’t stop, even as I writhe and beg for him to take me inside. My fingers dig into his shoulders, my nails scratching along his shirt and wishing it were skin.