Wrath (Sinful Secrets, #4)

by Ella James

This is what it’s like to kiss a boy. My head reels. I love his dick so much it makes me dizzy, but the kissing—fuck. The way he can’t stop, even when we both can’t breathe; he goes for little kisses at those moments: soft and quick, no tongue, and once, when we’re both really panting, he presses his cheek to mine, his hand trailing up into my hair.

“With you. Got those legs all stretched out in my front seat. Smelling like that fuckboy soap.” “What?” He’s laughing his ass off, just like I hoped he might. “Dude that shit is fucking Dial.” “It’s not real Dial. It’s some get-your-dick-up Dial.”