Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
It’s just his thumb on my face, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. I shudder. Everywhere.
His hand stops and he cups my face. “Would you rather kiss me tonight or never kiss me?”
This is the line.
My eyes float closed as the thrill and the danger of his question beckons me to cross the line.
12
OWEN
When River opens his eyes, the answer is written in them—the way they shine with desire.
It’s in his shoulders, how they rise and fall.
And it’s in his breath, a harsh pant.
Then his answer comes in words too. “Now. I want to kiss you now, Owen.”
But I want to kiss River. I want to set the pace. I’ve thought about it for years, and it’s happening at last—my greatest fantasy. “I’m going to kiss you first,” I tell him.
“I don’t care who goes first. Let’s just fucking kiss.”
Sexiest words ever. They make me feel like a king.
Clasping my hands on River’s shoulders, I turn him so he’s backed against the counter. I slide a hand through his hair, and my entire body is a pinwheel of sensations. Wild shivers race down my arms as my fingers roam through his strands. My fingers are tingling—just from this. This small, sensual touch is electrifying my senses and I want to record every second of this kiss for posterity.
Remember it always.
Like how River bites his lip, his breath coming in a shuddery, persistent rhythm of pleasure as I stroke his impossibly silky hair.
Like how he leans into my hand, seeking contact. Seeking me.
I want to remember, too, how he looks at me, his brown irises tinged with so much desire it’s like it radiates off him.
I want to take my time with everything. Every touch. My hand coasts down to his neck, traveling over his shoulder, along his arm. He shivers as I go. Then as I press my body to his, I draw out the first ever groan from him.
“Oh God, that feels good,” he says, in a needy whimper.
A thrill rushes through the center of my being.
I did this.
I made him feel this good.
It’s heady and intense, and I want this night to last forever.
A tremble races down my body as wishes and wants collide. At long last, desire meets reality and it’s utter bliss.
I let go of him to take off my glasses, setting them carefully on the counter behind him.
“You’re hot with glasses and without glasses,” River says. “Like I said, you’re just a hottie.”
“Glad you think so.” Closing my eyes, I lean in, my face drifting closer to his, and I inhale that forest rain scent. “Mmm,” I murmur, like I’m floating above Earth, completely intoxicated. And it’s not the champagne. It’s him.
And it’s him wanting me with the same ferocity.
River’s lust is a mirage and I want to wrap myself in its shimmer.
So I inch even closer, my cheek so dizzyingly near to his.
But I don’t touch his face yet, or his lips, because I want to drive him insane—make him beg with his body. Then, once he’s aching and needy, I’ll kiss him till he’s moaning for me. I’ll devour his lips till his hands thread through my hair, till he claws and grasps, till his breath comes in wild pants.
Till River can’t control his desire anymore.
Then he’ll know what my life’s been like around him.
I can’t wait any longer. After all these years, I need to touch him.
Brushing my lips along his jaw, I can’t hold back a ragged moan. “Oh God,” I gasp.
“Yessssss,” he murmurs, and in a heartbeat, his hands slide around my waist, gripping my hips, anchoring me in place.
My head is a haze of longing as I sweep my mouth along his jawline, then under it. River moves with me, lifting his face, giving me access to his neck. That scent of his hair and the smell of his soap swirl around me as I kiss his neck.
Here, there, everywhere.
My lips travel all over him, and I am in heaven. He’s better than I daydreamed—than I night-dreamed.
He tastes like the man who drives me wild.
I press a hand to his chest, my palm spreading over the fabric of his shirt as I roam my lips along his day-old stubble, savoring the sandpaper scrape against my face.
My lips explore him, but I’m not in a rush. I’m ravenous, but determined to savor every single second of our first kiss.
In case it’s our last.
With another moan, I make my way to his ear, nipping the lobe. He groans in exquisite misery. That sound. My God, it winds me up. Sends desire spinning wildly through my body. Makes my heart hammer harder for him.
“Owen, are you ever going to kiss me?” River pleads, and I just smile against his skin. Smile, because I’m so damn thrilled he wants me the same way.