Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
His tongue slides across the seam of my lips, and I open for him, letting him devour me. Our tongues meet, and Dean's fingers tighten on my chin, tilting my head to the angle he wants it at.
He's demanding and aggressive. Every time his teeth graze my lip or his tongue tangles with mine, a little whimper escapes me. It's so fucking good.
"Fuck," he groans, pulling back. "Fuck."
"Why did you stop?" I ask, breathless.
"Because I'm not a saint. Because I want to carry you into my bedroom and bury myself inside you, and that is not a good idea. Not tonight."
"It sounds like a good idea to me,” I say the words before I can stop myself, and I’m shocked at my own audacity. Holy shit, Delia! You’re still a virgin, remember?
Dean shakes his head, leaning his forehead against mine. "I want to, believe me. I want to, but you're not ready."
"Dean..." I whine.
He silences me with another kiss, only breaking it when I’m well and truly breathless.
"Just sleep." Dean pushes me back down and drapes the blanket over me. I watch, a little dazed, as he goes upstairs and then comes back down. I hadn't noticed the pillow or blankets before.
"I'm going to be on the floor. I'm not leaving you."
"You can't stay on the floor all night," I protest.
"Watch me."
The finality in his voice leaves no room for argument. Dean lies down and pulls the blanket over him, and the two of us lie there in silence for a long moment.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay down there?"
"Delia, if you don't shut the fuck up and go to sleep, I'm going to do something to keep your mouth occupied."
Heat flushes through me at his words, and I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from making a sound.
"Goodnight, princess."
I turn and face the couch, squeezing my eyes shut. "Goodnight, Dean."
Despite my exhaustion, it's a long time before I'm able to sleep.
4
DEAN
Delia's scent clings to the blanket. It surrounds me, and no matter how hard I try, I can't sleep. I should go back to my own room, but the idea of leaving her makes something inside of me sit up and roar. Delia makes me possessive as fuck...makes me want to have my eyes on her at all times.
My eyes, my hands, my mouth....fuck. I want to be all over her. I want to own her in every way a man can own a woman, and that possessive part of me is sure that I will. It's just a matter of time.
She's too sweet for her own good.
I can't help replaying last night over and over again. The way her body moved with mine when I kissed her. The taste of her skin. She's fucking addictive, and if I don't get a grip on myself, I'll ruin everything.
I've got to play this carefully. She's too young and innocent, and the last thing I want is to be an asshole about this. But dammit, she makes it hard. She makes everything hard, my cock included.
The light in the kitchen flicks on, and I push myself up to a sitting position. "Delia?"
Her soft voice comes from the other room. "Hey, sorry, didn't mean to wake you."
Standing, I stretch, pacing through the house to join her in the kitchen. "It's alright, princess. What's up?"
"Can't sleep," she admits. “We’ve still got like an hour before dawn, but…”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. "Me either."
She leans against the counter, staring down at me, and I stare back, taking in every line of her face, her body. She's wearing a pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination and a thin T-shirt that's not covering nearly enough. I don't even know when she changed or what time it is.
"So it’s morning?"
She suppresses a yawn. "Barely. I started coffee. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. Come sit with me."
She hesitates, but then she does. We pass the dining room table and take our mugs back to the living room where blankets and pillows are still scattered. This time, Delia sits so close her legs press against mine, and the warmth of her calms me. I'm not sure how it's possible that this girl could make me so damn possessive, so protective.
"Are you going to kiss me again?" she asks out of the blue, the steam from the coffee curling into the air between us.
"Probably," I say honestly.
"Okay." She bites her lip, and her cheeks turn red. The sight makes me fucking ravenous.
Suddenly, I have zero interest in coffee. I set the mug on the table and lean forward. "Do you want me to kiss you again, Delia?"
Her fingernails tap against her own mug. "Yes."
"Are you sure? This is the kind of thing that changes everything, and I need you to understand that." I put a finger under her chin, tilting it up so she’s forced to look into my eyes. “We kiss again and I’m going to start thinking you’re mine.”