Page 32 of The Survivor


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This was an whole-body shiver.

Meaning he felt it too.

I watched as his eyes heated, as his own lips parted.

My body, emboldened by its own growing desire, swayed into him, my breasts pressing into his chest.

That seemed to be what stripped away Wells’s hold on his self-control.

His hand shifted, gliding up my jaw, then slipping behind my neck to draw me closer.

His other hand slid around my back, pulling me against him, my breasts crushing into his chest as another shiver coursed through me.

His head dipped, and my heart hammered in my chest as his lips claimed mine.

I expected something kind of soft and sweet, something tentative and explorative.

But as soon as our lips met, a fire bloomed through us, spreading outward until it engulfed us completely.

My hands rose, sliding up his arms, then moving around the back of his neck, holding him closer as his lips slanted over mine again and again.

Hard.

Hungry.

A moan escaped me, muffled by his lips.

But he took the opportunity, his tongue sliding inside to claim mine for a moment before retreating, and kissing me harder still.

His feet were moving then, turning, then pushing me back against the wall behind the door.

His teeth nipped my lower lip, dragging a groan out of me as his hips pressed into mine, and I could feel the hardness of him against my belly, making another rush of desire flood my system.

His hand moved down, grabbing the back of my knee, and pulling it up, hooking it around his waist, then grinding against me.

A low, deep rumbling sound escaped him, but was quickly drowned out by my moan.

My hands were just drifting down his arms once again when someone on the street honked their horn, prompting Matilda to rush off the couch, race to the window, and start barking her head off.

Wells yanked away from me, taking a full step back.

The desire was still there as he looked at me, but quickly fled as he retreated more.

“Sorry. I’m… sorry,” he said, then grabbed the door, and made his way out.

A whimper escaped me as I leaned back against the wall until my legs felt strong enough again to move toward the door, slide the locks, and engage the alarm system.

“It’s okay, baby,” I cooed at Matilda, who came over to look up at me. I patted her head. “You did good,” I added. “You tell all the big, scary noises what you think of them, okay?” I asked.

Numbly, I went through the motion of cleaning up the kitchen and getting myself ready for bed.

In the end, though, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep in my bedroom.

I took the blanket and pillow to the living room instead, turning on the TV low so that any noise might wake me.

Matilda slept on the floor right up against the couch, waking at any unfamiliar sound.

The thing was, it wasn’t my attacker I was thinking about as I sat there for hours before sleep claimed me.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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