Turns out I’ve been faking being an adult. My job? My apartment? The pretty life I've built? Let's just say I've made some mistakes. I'm knee-deep in the mess I've made when I find him. Tall, dark-haired, and rough around the edges. The boy I never noticed is all grown up, in all the right ways. And he's not about to let me forget it. He can try to pretend he's immune to our attraction. I'm trained in the art of persuasion and I love a challenge. But how can he know the answers to questions I haven't thought to ask? I’ve been putting out fires, fighting like crazy to get my life back on track. And this man? He acts like he knows who's holding the match. Maybe there's no such thing as mistakes. What if it's all just sabotage?
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A moan parts my lips as his fingers discover how badly I want him. I tilt my head back as he rubs me. The electric storm between my legs makes it impossible to think of anything but his touch. My skin is on fire and his hands are relentless and unafraid, rough as coal and fueling my heat into a full-blown flame. I'm hurting for him to be inside of me. Eyes shut, I have no idea what he intends to do next until his lips find mine below. I groan out. Loud. He savors me slowly at first. But his tastes turn to nipping, and then he devours me with increasing vigor. Out of nowhere, he gives my clit one sudden, sharp suck. "Oh God," I breathe out. My back arches upward, pulled by the firing nerves running up and down my core. Reality blurs away, intoxicating lust pulls a veil over all of my other senses. All I know is his lips on me. I'm clutching the edge of the counter and twisting my hips any way I can to grind against his face and show him with my movements how incredibly good he's making me feel. Owen's waging an assault on my body, concentrating all his forces on the one small spot where the war is won. I've never been tasted like this before. This man knows what he's doing. He knows how much pressure to put where, he knows how to weave over all the sensitive spots. When to be rough, when to pull back. He puts his whole damn head into it. It's like he knows exactly what I'm itching for before I even decide, scratching the perfect place every single time. His tongue massages my most sensitive spot long enough to put me on edge and then tortuously moves to another itch. He's a fucking professional, bringing me to the brink of orgasm three or four times and somehow, defiantly, keeps me right there until I'm begging in a desperate whisper for him to make me come. He slides a finger inside of me, all the while tasting me, and lets out a groan as I squeeze around it. His finger pulses in and out of me to the rhythm of my uneven heartbeat. One of my legs hooks over his shoulder, pulling his face further into me. He must know, somehow, how close I am, because he lightly drags his teeth against me. My eyes fly open as the sting of pain twists instantly to insane ecstasy that plunges me into an explosive orgasm. I'm sure my spine dissolved and my body is left boneless. I laugh. That felt so damn good I don't know what else to do but laugh. "Does that mean you want more?" Owen asks. The look in his eyes tells me he's still starving. And I'm on the menu. "I'll give you more."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Veronica Larsen is a twenty-something year old writer who enjoys crafting emotionally rousing stories laced with intense chemistry. Her debut contemporary romance novel, Entangle (Hearts of Stone, Book 1), released December 1st 2014. When Veronica isn’t writing, she enjoys reading, sobbing over her epic Pinterest fails, and spending time with her sweet little family in Southern California.