Never Say Yes To Your Best Friend (I Said Yes #2) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny Tags Authors: Series: I Said Yes Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“If that’s decided, do you want this slow and luxurious or hot and heavy?”

She grasps my hand and drags it to her panties. “Can it be a mix of both?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“If I get bored, I can always focus on the sheep’s butt. That’s pretty entertaining.”

“Bored?” I huff. “Oh, you will not get bored.”

“If you say so.” She’s all bravado, but when I stroke my fingers down the soaked fabric of her panties, I see her smooth, flat belly quiver and watch the tremble echo in her thighs.

Before this, I’d never had the urge to come from just watching someone tremble, but oh my crab cakes, this woman. She does it for me.

I want her panties off, but I settle for running my finger over her seam again, up to her clit, and then back. She gasps and arches her hips. Yeah, I can’t mess around like this anymore. These panties have to go.

They’re the boy short black cotton kind. They’re tighter fitting, but they peel away easily.

Let’s see how bored she might be while I’m eating her pussy until she’s flying off the bed.

I start slowly, with my hand tracing her heat. She arches into my touch and moans as she opens and spreads her legs around me. “More, Bergamont,” she commands fearlessly and bossily.

She might not have been the right woman that night, but she’s the right woman now. I’ve never met anyone so strong and fearless. I thought I could leave and go on this journey of self-discovery. And I still need to. But maybe leaving doesn’t have to happen right away. It can happen right here at home since it’s probably the best place to start.

I want to figure out who I am and what my life would look like if I took some time off and immersed myself in a different reality, but I also want to know what life would look like with her. What that life might look like together and if it could work.

“You know you’re the only one who uses my full name?”

“That’s sweet. I’m the only one you’ll let use your full name, you mean.”

“Well, besides my grandmother. Fuck, I shouldn’t be mentioning my grandma right now,” I growl, squeezing my eyes shut.

“It’s already forgotten. Put your fingers inside me, Bergamont. Please.”

I stroke down her center and find her entrance. She’s hot and wet. “How many?”

“Until I can’t take anymore.”

It’s so hot that she can give commands. I should have figured she’d be fearless in bed.

I give her one finger, pushing inside just a little. “Here?”

“Yeah…no.” Her eyes aren’t open, and her face looks like she’s fighting back the bliss. “More.”

“How many more?”

“Are you even inside yet?”

I chuckle, even though it makes my balls jiggle, which is incredibly painful at the moment, seeing as they feel extremely swollen. “I’d take that as an insult if this wasn’t my finger.”

“Are you?”

I add another and push both fingers inside. She’s so tight. I want her clenched around my dick, not around my fingers, but control is a great thing, and I’m going to have it.

“Oh my god.” Her head digs into the pillow, and her hips buck into my hand. She starts panting. “Is that all you’ve got?”

I don’t give her another finger, but I do start up a slow rhythm that causes my knuckles to brush against her clit every so often. She can’t pretend she’s not wild with it. Her hips pump with my hand, and she tries to reach down and circle her own clit, which is hot, but I can do better.

I can taste her. I give her my mouth, and her panting turns into full-on gulping for air. She rocks against my hand and face, and her hands push up behind her and against the carved headboard between the massive, ornate posts. She doesn’t grab it. She just pushes on it while she pushes against me.

She rides my face and hand, going wild while I watch her, transfixed. She’s so beautiful. So strong. This woman just got her nipple fucking stung by a hornet, though it doesn’t look that bad. Now that she’s iced it, it’s pretty much the same size as the other one. It’s just maybe a little redder, considering the other one is a dark raspberry pink. She doesn’t appear to be in any pain from the sting as her chest rises and falls and as her hips jerk and ride and pump against my face.

I watch her because I can’t look away. I look up at her body, at the dress pooled in the middle of her body, at the valley of her chest, at her neck straining, and at her head bent back.

I change the rhythm, licking her center, licking and kissing her where I’m filling her.

“Oh my—yes. Please. Oh god,” she moans.



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