Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I whisper into his leg, so soft I’m not even sure I’ve said it out loud.
Another. And another. And another. And another. He moves them around as if he knows how much I can take. When I think I can’t take another strike in the same spot, he moves his target until I’m sure my entire backside is ripe and red from where my thighs meet my round cheeks to where my tan line from my bikini bottoms makes a stripe across my back.
“Owww,” I cry out, my voice echoing in the cathedral ceilings of the massive bedroom.
My skin is a minefield. Every touch, every whisper of air exploding the nerve endings into raw pain and sharp agony. I’m kicking at the floor, pushing the tips of my toes against it, raising myself, shifting, wiggling, praying I can take more.
For him.
But then, his touch changes. The punishment stops. It’s over. I can tell it from the way his huge warm palms rest on my screaming, tender flesh. His rough palms heavy on the hot skin. Long fingers curling gently as if to say, this is mine.
I draw a deep breath, warmth gathering down low, radiating from the inside out.
“Goddamn it, Kat, you’re so fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful…” His deep voice is calm, almost pained. Strong and clear. Grounding and anchoring.
The ache in my belly, in my bones—it is almost unbearable. Every primal cell in my body needs to see him, to touch him and for him to touch me in return.
My mind swirls, thoughts of tracing my fingers over each hard, sculpted muscle of his chest, that deep indent that leads down from his belly. His cock. His balls. His thighs.
“You okay, baby girl?” he asks in a way that feels so intimate my eyes start to burn.
The flutter in my belly returns and brings me back to earth.
“Yes. I’m… I’m okay.” Even through the outrageous pain he just delivered, I am so much more than okay. So much more okay than I ever dreamed I could be.
With a firm, guiding grip, he lifts me off his lap onto my wobbly legs. I steady myself on his shoulder as he pulls me between his open knees and his fingers trace the straps of my sundress, easing them off my shoulders. Instinct moves my arms to cover myself, to prevent him from seeing my naked body underneath.
“Stop it,” he says, with a firm grip of my wrist. “Look at me.”
I lift my eyes to trace the lines of his face. His hard jaw. His beautiful self. And I feel so… unworthy. “I’m embarrassed for you to see me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You can’t see what I see.”
“No.”
“So get the fuck over it and let me worship you like you deserve.”
A blush makes my face feel hot, vulnerable. “I’ve never…”
He takes my hand and puts it on the hard length in his lap, making me cup it through his pants. It is huge. Intimidating.
“See what you do to me? You’re the only one that doesn’t see it, Kat. You’re blind to yourself.”
A slow quivering breath fills my lungs and I study his eyes for any hint of teasing. There’s none. Only warmth. Only desire. Only Trent and the protective fire that’s always been there.
I lower my arms to my sides and my dress falls with them. The little spaghetti straps flutter down and the fabric falls around my feet.
Again his cock flexes, and I can see a spot of wetness on the front of his pants. “I am so fucking hard for you, Kitty Kat. And I’m about to lose my motherfucking mind knowing I’m going to get to make you mine.”
His words hit me like hammer in the center of my chest.
Rough fingers meet the softness of my hips. Inch by inch, he eases my panties lower and I close my eyes as he drags them all the way to my ankles. Then, tapping the top of each of my feet, telling me to lift. I do as he silently commands. The wetness on the fabric is clear as he brings them to his face, eyes closed, covering his mouth and nose.
He stays like that for what seems like hours, my heart racing, skin prickling, the sound of his deep breaths making me slick now where my thighs touch.
When I think I’m about to faint, he finally drops them next to where my dress is heaped on the carpet.
“Fucking Jesus,” he whispers. He pulls me forward, nestling his chin between my breasts. The thick sharp hairs of his stubble perk up my nipples as frozen fire races down my spine and into my toes.
I slide my hands over his shoulders, hugging him as I’ve done thousands of times, keeping him close and warm. And for the first time, I let myself accept that he really is safe. Truly safe. And in my arms, too. “God, I missed you.”