Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
My body seemed to light up for only this man. There was that too.
Without thinking it through, I arched my neck and gave him better access as he continued a path of kisses over to my throat, nipping at my skin, then taking small licks, as if I were a treat he wanted to savor.
Even if I’d misunderstood that photo, I couldn’t just let this happen. Bend to him like this. I deserved an explanation, answers. I wasn’t some random booty call.
I intended to tell him just that when he snatched the covers off me and slid a hand between my thighs.
“Lie back for me,” he growled near my ear, then shoved my legs open. “I’ve been craving the way you taste. I need you on my tongue.”
Okay, so maybe we could talk after. I was panting, and the unsuccessful attempts I’d had at getting myself off lately left me unsatisfied. Ransom wouldn’t leave me that way.
NO! This wasn’t right. I was better than this. I wasn’t like the others, where he could just snap his fingers and they’d spread their legs.
“I’m not one of your—your hookups,” I said, doing my best to sound stern.
He narrowed his eyes, and his hand tightened its grip on my thigh. “No, Shakespeare, you’re not. You’re the reason I don’t have fucking hookups anymore. I can’t think about sinking my dick into any cunt but yours. Now, let me have it … please.” The fierceness in his tone softened on that last word, and … well, all good intentions were gone.
He didn’t … he wasn’t sleeping with other women? Because of me? The surge of emotions that came with that confession made my eyes sting and my throat tighten. God, had I ever experienced a relief this powerful?
I fell back onto my elbows, then lowered myself the rest of the way.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he stared down at me. His eyes drifting down my body. “I don’t care what they do to me. It’s worth it.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if he were talking to himself.
Who was going to do something to him?
His fingers hooked the corners of my panties, and he tugged them down slowly, sliding the satin over my thighs, then calves, before discarding the fabric with a toss.
“Open your legs for me.”
My body obediently did as he’d commanded. I already knew I’d regret this in the morning. But for now, I was weak. I needed him.
His nostrils flared as he lowered himself, then moved my legs onto his shoulders.
“Damn,” he sighed before the first swipe of his tongue shoved away all my other thoughts.
My hands fisted in the sheets as I whimpered, wishing I were stronger. That I didn’t need him so badly.
I shouldn’t be doing this. He had ghosted me for an entire month. I had no reason or explanation. But he’d not been with other women. That was something. And he was here.
A deep hum vibrated in his chest as he continued to lick at me as if he couldn’t get enough. My hips lifted from the mattress, and I let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh. If he wanted to distract me, he was doing an excellent job.
His lips trailed kisses down the inside of my thigh as his fingers dug into my flesh, tightening his hold. “Fuuuck,” he murmured. “I missed you.”
The words then why were right there on the tip of my tongue when he flicked and sucked my clit, sending me flying off into the orgasm I’d been unsuccessful at reaching without him.
“Ransom!” I cried out as the waves of pleasure rushed over me.
“That’s it. Call my name.” His growl was followed by the sound of his zipper.
Panting, I lay there, watching him shove off his jeans and boxer briefs, then rip the shirt over his head, tossing it aside while climbing onto the bed and over me. I’d had my orgasm. I should be able to think clearly. Be focused on the issue, but the sight of Ransom’s sculpted, tattooed chest and arms caging me in took my breath away. I said not one thing, but waited with anticipation. Knowing that once he was inside me, I wouldn’t feel the ache his absence had caused. I’d be whole again.
His fingers slid into my hair and fisted, and then he pulled my head back until it was tilted up, my eyes locked on him. The rigidness of his jawline and the veins sticking out in his neck as his nostrils flared made me shiver. He looked fierce, masculine, every fantasy that I’d written on paper.
Ransom was my muse. He had been since I had been sixteen years old.
“This …” he said hoarsely, then thrust his hips and slammed into me hard. His eyes closed briefly as his breathing stuttered. “Goddamn,” he murmured. “This … this is what I needed.”