Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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Her gaze sinks further into me, her desire fisting me. And then Luna grips my length that’s bearing against my black cotton pants, and she squeezes. Fuck me. Breath scrapes my throat and heavies my lungs.

“Luna,” I whisper, my lips ghosting hers. I pull off her black baggy shirt. No bra, I massage her small breast while she grinds against my dick and then begins lifting off my knitted sweater.

She nips my lip, and I harden more, my fingers lost in her long hair. Her nails graze my bare chest, and I bear my weight on Luna, her back thumping to the bed.

I hear her tiny cry of pleasure as I grind against her pussy, and blood rushes to my cock. I blanket her slender frame, and while I’m on top of her, we make out for what feels like an hour of boiling torture. Me grinding, her clawing at my back.

Her soft moans are going to live in my head for eternity.

All we’re doing is kissing and dry-humping, and her hips suddenly arch into me, her legs quaking as she gets off. My muscles are flexed and contracted, burning alive, and seeing her come almost sends me over a cliff.

I end up grinning, though. Knowing she’s as attracted to me as I am to her—that’s gotta be one of the biggest turn-ons. As she comes down with shallow breath, I catch her heady gaze and whisper, “And I thought I was easy.”

I know I’ve said something wrong the second she starts retreating into herself. Her eyes just…glaze.

I frown, my heart clenching. “Luna?” I pull more of my weight off her. Hovered above her body.

She tries to focus on me…but she’s not all there. “Sorry,” she whispers.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s me,” she squeaks out, and I sit up off her while she reaches for the nightstand. Her arm isn’t long enough.

“Watcha looking for?”

“My vape.”

I crawl off Luna, grab her vape pen out of the drawer, and then switch her small air filter on. She’s already upright and leaning against the headboard, and after finding the remote in the comforter, I come sit beside her. I’m unsure of what just happened, but I can’t figure out how to press the topic without pressing on a wound, and I hesitate to hurt her in any capacity.

The window is already cracked, and the curtains are closed for privacy. But before Luna even smokes, she rests her cheek on my shoulder, nuzzled more against me, and I wrap an arm around her, easing and trying to think what could be bothering her.

I start remembering the frat party from this year.

The one I ended up going to. Just because I heard Luna was in trouble. I found her locked in an upstairs bathroom of the frat house, and some drunk fuck was trying to get in.

We’ve never talked about that night. Not once it passed.

I turn on the TV. “Was it the frat party?” I ask gently, but I’m more tensed. She might not even understand what the hell I’m asking, but after she takes a small puff on the vape, she shakes her head.

Her downcast eyes ascend to me. “That night at the frat house…I don’t think I’ve been that scared in a long time, and I’m really glad you showed up. Just hearing you…I knew everything was going to be okay.”

My chest rises in a deeper breath. “Wouldn’t have been anywhere else.” I touch her head with affection, and she just rests her cheek back on my shoulder.

Without raising her cheek off me, she takes another puff. “About before…I just…I started thinking about tabloids.” Her voice is so quiet that I strain to hear. “I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I assure instantly, but it dawns on me that tabloids have been calling Luna a sex addict for a while.

I called her easy.

Fuck…me.

But I’ve gotta say something. “I just wanna let the lava lamp know that I’m without a doubt the sluttiest one here. Print it. Engrave it. Send it to your mom.”

Her lips tic up. “The mother of lava lamps. A volcano.”

“Erupting and shit,” I add while she passes me the vape pen.

Afterwards, Luna kisses me, and I search her eyes before I lean further in. I’m the one deepening the kiss this time, and we slide beneath the comforter. Minutes pass where we’ve drawn off our last layers of clothing, but we just build up the moment without shooting for a release.

She’s laughing when I lick the side of her face.

“Tastes cosmic to me.”

Her smile bursts across her face. And we’re trying to focus on the TV as the night moves too fast. We both lean back up against the headboard, and I click into episode 12, the finale.

“Reactions have been good?” I wonder since I avoided all social media since last night.



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