Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
"Noah."
"I know, baby." I hiss, tugging my zipper down and freeing my rigid cock from my slacks.
Her eyes follow the swath of fabric sliding over my thighs and down my legs before dropping to the floor.
"Look at me, Elsie," I whisper, hand hovering near my cock.
Her pupils widen when she finally meets my gaze. She sways a little.
I wrap one hand around my length and pump once, twice, my tight fist sliding up and down. "This is what you do to me." My voice is low, barely carrying through the foyer. I pump again and nearly groan at the electric rush. Christ. Fucking my hand like this while she watches is heaven, so much better than doing it alone in my bed or beneath the showerhead while I fantasize about her.
She stays rooted in place, her eyes fixed as my fist glides down to my balls and back up to the head.
"I've thought about you so many times while I did this, Dimples," I confess, unable to keep the truth from spilling out. I don't want to keep secrets from her. I want her to know every part of me—every fucking second of obsession. "Every time we were together, I'd jerk off after, imagining you wrapped around me."
"Oh God," she whispers, her body trembling again.
"Did you ever think about me when you touched yourself?" I ask, knowing a gentleman wouldn't—but I don't care. The thought of her hands sliding down her body while she moans my name sets me on fire.
Her pupils dilate until the bright green gives way to desperate black. The way she trembles tells me everything I need to know.
Elsie Cameron is a bad, bad girl. She thinks about me when she comes. All those nights I spend alone, fucking my hand to thoughts of her…she did the same.
"Yes," she finally whispers, her voice shaking.
I groan, the sound torn from my chest. "Fuck, I like knowing that, baby." I close my eyes, fighting the urge to pull her into me right then. "Tell me what you did to yourself." I risk it all by asking, but I need to hear her voice, need to know her desire.
"I cried out for you," she whispers.
My eyes snap open.
She's still staring at my hand, hypnotized.
"When I came, I called your name. Sometimes, I hoped you'd hear me, that you'd come back for something, hear what I was doing while moaning for you, and that you'd—" She breaks off with a groan as I pump again.
"That I'd what?" I press, wanting every little confession she's willing to give me.
She swallows, tearing her gaze from my hand, and looks me in the eye. "That you'd come back and make me come for real. I want you inside me, Noah. I've wanted it for so fucking long."
I'm at her side in an instant, needing her closer. We both cry out when our bodies meet, as if that simple touch banishes every night spent in cold beds, dreaming of one another.
No more waiting. No more dreaming.
I press my lips to hers again, kissing her softly. "No more wishing, baby."
She moans against me, relief clear in the sound.
I turn her around until her back presses to my chest, lifting her hair with one hand and trailing open-mouth kisses down her neck to her shoulder. My other hand settles low on her stomach, holding her still as I lavish attention long denied. She shakes and sways, her muscles fluttering beneath my palm.
"God, I could eat you up," I whisper in her ear before tugging at her zipper. The silky fabric of her dress slides down easily. I groan when I realize she's been braless all evening.
"Please," she breathes, helping me lower the dress the rest of the way.
Each bit of her skin I unveil makes me ache a little more. I want to put my mouth on every inch of her, kiss every curve, and lick every faint freckle dusted across her back. I settle for running my fingers down her spine and around her waist. Her curves are just as soft beneath my hands as I imagine they'd be, just as perfect.
She melts into me. The heat of her bare skin against mine acts like a brand, searing into me.
"Fuck," I hiss in her ear, closing my eyes so I can live in this moment for a little while—not long, just a minute, just enough to sear the electric sensation into my mind.
She turns her face into mine, a soft sigh whispering from her lips as if she feels exactly the same way. I slide my hand up the swell of her stomach, loving how her body moves beneath my fingers. She is so soft. I'll never get enough of that.
Her body shudders as my fingers dance higher, my palms sweeping over the bottoms of her breasts. I heft their weight in my hands before circling her taut nipples with my fingers. Jesus, her breasts are even more perfect than I deserve—a handful I can get lost in.