Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
He braced himself, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright, his arms shaking a little as his eyes caressed my face like a starving man. That savage need made me throb harder. “Come inside me,” I pleaded, smoothing my hand over his chest. “Quinn.”
He gave a dazed shake of his head. “I’m not done savoring you.”
As he came down over me to kiss me, his jeans rubbed roughly against my bare skin, the fabric of his shirt fluttering against my stomach in a way that was strangely erotic. As was the taste of myself on his tongue. The tickle of his beard on my face. And yet, he cupped my cheek in his hand with such tenderness, it scored an ache across my chest.
I wanted to rip off his clothes and ride his cock hard and at the same time I wanted to revel in him too, to anticipate what he planned to do to me next.
Quinn’s kiss was deep but slow, sexy and in control, and so tender I felt the sting of tears in my nose. I curled my hands around his biceps, my fingers digging into his muscle, desperation and exploration colliding in my touch.
Years of longing filled that kiss.
I could lie to myself and say this was just sex, but it was more.
It was two bound souls finally reunited, and it was as painful as it was exquisite.
As if he heard my thoughts, Quinn’s kiss grew hungrier, more urgent, his hands exploring my body, squeezing my waist in a way that felt frantic. Then just as quickly, he seemed to check himself again, his touch gentling to brush strokes across my ribs, my waist, my stomach.
Less controlled than he was, my hands dipped under his shirt to caress his stomach, dragging my nails up over the ridges of muscle to his pecs, my thumbs finding his nipples. I moaned, arching into him, pressing against the arousal tenting his jeans.
Quinn’s kiss deepened in reaction and he gripped my hip, pushing into me harder. I kissed him back with the same greed, and our tongues tangled in deep, wet strokes. Arching into him as my hands moved back from under his shirt to stroke down his arms, I learned the virile strength of him, his hardness to my softness.
Suddenly Quinn grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head on the bed.
That tension inside me coiled tighter as he ground his erection into me, holding me down, so strong, so much bigger than me.
Without my touch to distract him, Quinn’s kisses gentled, his control returning. He nipped at my lips and then pressed sweet kisses to my chin and down my throat, sliding south as he played with my right breast, squeezing, kneading, and sculpting it, his thumb strumming at my nipple. All the while he took my left nipple into his hot mouth.
“Quinn!” Sensation scored down my stomach to between my legs.
I was nothing but quivering limbs and need as he took his time suckling and licking at each of my nipples until they were flushed and swollen and tender. His name fell from my lips over and over, seeming only to make him more determined to kiss every inch of me. His mouth touched upon every dip and curve of my body, exploring my ribs and down my stomach, my waist, my hips, as his hands moved over me, needing to touch, to lick, needing to pet.
Finally, I could take no more.
I grabbed at his shirt, curling my fist into the material. “Get naked. Get naked now,” I demanded hoarsely.
Quinn grunted in amusement at the order, but he pushed off the bed, eyes hot as he tugged his shirt up and over and threw it behind him. I pushed up on my elbows to drink in every inch of him as he worked on his boots and jeans. He was beautiful.
His body had changed too. His shoulders were wider, a thickness to his muscles compared to the sinewy strength of them in his youth. He was no less gorgeous, though. Naturally tan skin rippled over defined pecs and his hard stomach. Thick thigh muscles and carved calves almost distracted me from his large erection that strained his boxer briefs. Almost, but not quite.
My nipples peaked in reaction as he peeled his underwear over his cock and pushed them off.
His cock was generous in proportions, length and girth, and, just as I remembered, it curved slightly to the left. Right now the veins along it throbbed visibly, the head so dark red it was purple. Precum glistened at the tip.
My lower belly squeezed hard.
“You’re beautiful, Quinn,” I whispered.
His lips curled ever so slightly at the corners, perhaps bemused by the word choice but apparently pleased, nonetheless. In seconds, he retrieved a condom from his wallet, and wet pooled between my thighs as he rolled it down his cock.