Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I groan, unbidden.
She smiles. “Better?”
So much, but I’m not letting on yet. Not when I can tease her.
“Let me see if this is better.” I roam my eyes up and down her strong body, toned from years of hard work on the farm. Drinking in every detail. Her glittering eyes. Her parted lips. The flush across the top of her chest. Most of all—the way she waits for my answer.
Ripley is a firecracker every second I’m with her, but in moments like this, she’s someone else too. She’s softer, eager, hopeful.
“Better now?” she asks.
I tilt my head, like I’m giving it real thought.
“A little,” I say, then I slide a hand down the soft flesh of her chest, over the tops of her breasts, teasing her before I travel back up to her eager mouth. I trace my thumb along her bottom lip, eliciting a shudder from her. Her eyes flutter closed as she moves slowly with me.
This is the opposite of our first night, when we smashed into each other in the booth in the bar. Now, it’s like we’re spending a lazy afternoon in the sun, when we have all the time in the world to do the things we want to do.
Even though I don’t.
Even though we shouldn’t cross this line.
But I do it anyway. “This would make it better,” I rasp out, then reach for her hands on me. I take the right one from my shoulder, moving it off me, then behind her back. I reach for her other hand, shifting that one behind her back too.
Desire thrums through me, hot and sizzling, and wickedly hopeful too—I fucking hope she likes this. She parts her lips on a gasp, a bit of an answer, as I bind her wrists in one hand, gripping them both tight.
She shudders, a clearer answer.
Yessss.
I dip my face to her neck and blaze a trail of kisses up the hinge of her jaw, kissing her there. She moves with me, stretching her neck as I go. I lift my free hand, cup her jaw, then jerk her gaze to me. Her eyes are blue flames. My body is a furnace. “So much fucking better, sweetheart,” I say, then I kiss her lush lips while I hold her in place.
With my free hand, my fingers coast down her throat, and I cover the hollow of it with my palm. “You like this?”
I’m pretty sure she does, but I want to hear it from her. “I do,” she murmurs, sounding a little lost in the moment.
“Then show me. Use me,” I command.
With a grateful moan, Ripley rocks against my dick. Seeking out friction, she rides my erection as I keep her wrists bound behind her back, my hand gripping her face, her body under my control.
A rumble works its way up my chest as I stare at the gorgeous sight in front of me. On me. “You look good like this,” I say.
“When I can’t move?”
I glance down at her hips, swaying. “You’re moving.”
“You know what I mean,” she pants out.
“Do I?” I ask, goading her to say it. To acknowledge that she likes being restrained.
“Banks,” she grumbles, annoyed but aroused, as she grinds down against my hard length.
“Answer me, Ripley. What do I mean?” I repeat.
“You’re such a dick,” she bites out.
I laugh, then bring my mouth down on her collarbone, nipping her there. She tastes so good. The scent goes to my head, fries a few more brain cells, and makes it harder for me to tease the hell out of her. “You taste like lavender.”
“What a surprise,” she deadpans, but then her retort fades, turning into a sharp hitch in her breath.
I grip her wrists tighter. She moves faster. “Tell me what you like about this,” I demand.
“You ass,” she mutters.
Fine, she’s not too soft when lust takes the wheel. Guess I was a little wrong. She’s still all fire. But the thing is, she’s also not in control. I am. I let go of her face to grab her hip and lift her off my dick, breaking the contact. “Tell me,” I say again, sternly, meeting her eyes.
“Fine. I like where your hands are,” she says, a needy admission.
Because I know that was hard for her, I reward her, yanking her back down on my hard-on. Then I punch up my hips, giving her more of what she wants.
“Use me, sweetheart,” I say.
She rocks against me faster, her mouth falling open, her eyes squeezing shut. It’s so fucking beautiful the way she’s chasing release on the side of the road.
I give her what she needs. My lips on her neck, my fingers curled around her wrists, my hand caressing her breast, squeezing a nipple through her shirt and her bra.
“Ohhh,” she murmurs, then her head falls forward, resting against the side of my face, giving me another hit of her sweet scent. Maybe it’s lavender shampoo.