Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Um, make your legion of fans understand. According to them, I stole their winning ticket at the Pruitt lottery.”
“Bullshit,” he says tenderly, carefully drawing the dress off me.
The corset pops off easily, thankfully, and he peels more fabric away until I’m down to what Elle termed my knock-him-out panties, complete with a little pink bow.
He lets out a choked laugh and catches my face, bringing it to his so he can kiss me.
“A word of warning,” I say between kisses, twisting so I can undo his jacket and work off his layers. “Don’t even try to take my hair down. We’ll be stuck here for days.”
“That bad? I like it down.”
I laugh against his lips. God, I love being here like this.
“Pins.” The way his face creases with frustration makes me dissolve into more laughter.
He doesn’t seem to mind as he peppers kisses down my neck and across my breasts, rolling my nipples until I gasp.
“A month. A fucking month without my dick inside you,” he rasps bitterly.
“Too long, I agree.” I push him back, and we walk to the railing, where tiny lights dance on the distant islands. Here, naked as the day I was born, I stand and push my hips toward him.
“Here? You’re sure?”
“If you can manage.” I glance over my shoulder at him mischievously.
“Fuck, woman, I’d take you on top of the Space Needle right now. I’ve been dreaming about having you wrapped around me for weeks.” He reaches between my legs, his quick fingers rubbing and teasing.
He doesn’t need any prep when I’m already soaked.
I bite my lip and lean over the railing carefully. The cold metal nips my skin, a pleasant contrast to the fire he kindles.
There are so many beautiful sights ahead, but I don’t think anything will beat this moment, bathed in night, his hot breath on my neck.
He comes closer, leaning over me, pressing me down.
We exchange a quick, feral glance, a question without words.
Oh yes. I’m ready.
In answer, he inhales sharply, pressing his cock against my entrance.
He takes me in one push.
Glorious friction.
For a second, I can’t breathe.
Being filled by this man is on another level, the one inhabited by sex gods.
My legs tremble, and he wraps his arms around my waist with a rough laugh.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry,” he says.
Doesn’t he, though?
His hand roams my breast, and the other moves down, skating across my belly until he finds my clit. With his thumb adding the perfect pressure, he thrusts deeply, fiercely.
The slowness is delectable—but when I rock my hips back, urging him on faster, it’s devastating.
With these rings glittering on my fingers and the rest of our lives coming closer with every thrust, every kiss, every breathless moan, I know how deeply Brady healed me.
He fixed me in ways I never knew I needed.
Everyone at Pawsome Hearts keeps teasing me about the changes the last few months.
I smile more. I make small talk with strangers, and it doesn’t feel like a chore. I’m even singing along to the radio after close, when we all pitch in to clean the kennels.
They remind me I’ve defrosted.
And the very hot, heroic beast driving into me is the only reason why.
My hand covers Brady’s over my breast, just so I can touch him.
His tempo picks up. He holds me closer, pinning us together with his grip.
Greedily possessive, yes.
But safe. Wanted.
Inseparable.
“So fucking good tonight, Lena,” he growls in my ear. The cool breeze skittering over me is the only reason I’m not melting.
I know how risky this is, but my body doesn’t care. Technically, some restless crewman could walk out for a cigarette or just some fresh air and look up at our balcony, but when you’re on a boat with a billionaire and his new wife on their wedding night, I guess you know the rules.
Don’t see it, don’t say it.
The waves rock gently under us, adding an extra thrill.
There’s nothing gentle as his hips quicken, his cock pounding fire through my nerves.
Another moan falls out of me.
The love, the happiness, the certain forever, and the pleasure that ignites me like a match.
Absolutely no complaints.
A month ago, I would’ve sworn we have the best sex life. But something about tonight feels different.
Maybe it’s the ring on my finger or the giddy afterglow of walking down the aisle and dancing until my feet hurt.
But yes, married sex feels better than I would’ve believed.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
“Not on your life.” He kisses my shoulder, then the other. “Hell, I think you’ll condition me to get hard every time I see your hair like this.”
I give back a gasping, breathless laugh. “I don’t think it’ll happen very often.”
“Shame. I’d better savor this, then.” He plunges in faster, losing control with every thrust, breaking me down.
Then time blurs for the hundredth time today.
I think I say his name.