Chapters (43)
- Title Page
- Table of Contents
- Dedication
- Author's Note
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also from the author
The way he looks at me gives me a confidence I didn’t know I had in me. So much that I don’t hesitate when I start tugging at the hem of his sweater. He leans forward to help me pull it off him, and then I start kissing down from his pecs to his taut stomach. This man couldn’t be hotter if he tried. I knew this before, but this just confirms it.
“Fuck, Wren,” he says when my mouth reaches his navel. His words just prime me even more, encouraging me to press wet kisses and lick the line of skin above his pants. A groan booms from his chest.
“Is this okay?” I ask as I continue kissing his chest and belly. I feel like what I’m doing is good, but maybe this isn’t quite what he wants from me. And if I want this deal to be worthwhile for him too, then I need to know whether he likes what I’m doing or not.
The moment the words leave my mouth, his gaze burns deeper. Without a word, Aaron grips my hand and leads it to his erection, which seems even harder than it was before.
“Does that answer your question?” he whispers in my ear before he gives my earlobe a soft bite.
“Uh-huh.”
Aaron’s hands never stop trailing my body, as if he wants to imprint the feel of me in his mind. I can understand the feeling.
“How can you be so perfect?” His nose trails my neck before he starts kissing me between my breasts, then lower. When he reaches my panty line, however, he doesn’t stop. His lips press on top of the black lace, where I can feel my pulse increase. Instead of being bent on top of my body, he drops to his knees, then pulls at my legs so I’m hanging on the edge of the bed, his head between my knees as he looks at me like a predator would his prey.
And when he moves forward and gives one slow stroke of his tongue over my panties, so warm and wet, I almost pass out on the spot. I must say something of the sort out loud because he chuckles slowly before repeating the motion. Then he hooks both of his index fingers in my panties and says, “Can I?”
I nod eagerly, but when he doesn’t get up and instead starts pressing kisses on top of my center, I lift myself on my elbows and say, “You don’t have to do that.”
He only flicks his eyes my way with a raised eyebrow.
Cheeks warm, I say, “I thought we’d agreed on something more…mutually pleasing.” My voice climbs at the end, as if I’m asking a question.