The Endgame (Atlanta Lightning #1) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Atlanta Lightning Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
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Fuck, it was so goddamn hot when he took control like that, but the thing was, I liked control too, so I tightened my hold around him, flipped us so his back was to the door, and thrust against him while I kissed the hell out of him.

“Let us in.” My lips ghosted next to his ear and then down his neck. “Can I?” My tongue flicked at the skin of his throat.

Knowing exactly what I was asking, he said, “Yes. God yes.”

I tugged at his bow tie, ripped open the first few buttons on his shirt, then bit into his neck and sucked the skin into my mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, hands tight on my hips as he nearly dissolved into the door. I didn’t pull off right away, though. I kept sucking, wanting the darkest mark I’d ever put on him there, claiming what was mine. Of course, it was low enough he could cover it with a shirt, but still.

Anson cried out when I pulled back, the purple mark already forming on his skin. “Jesus, do you know how hard it gets me? Knowing you like the evidence of me on your body?”

“Do it again,” he begged.

“Open the door first, Bashful. I don’t want to risk you getting caught.” I pressed a soft kiss to where I’d just marked him.

“I…yeah, okay. Shit, you’re right. I just, I needed you so fucking bad, I couldn’t hold back.”

“Me too.”

Anson turned and gave me his back as he fumbled with his keys. I didn’t give him much space, my cock now against his ass, my lips on the back of his neck, kissing and sucking on his skin, his earlobe, whatever I could reach.

When I looked down, I saw his hands were shaking as he tried to get the key into the lock.

“Shh. It’s just us.”

He took a deep, shaky breath, then managed to open the door. We stumbled inside, and I tossed my bag down and pushed the door closed behind us.

Without warning, Anson was on me again, kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth, ripping my shirt open as he walked backward, pulling me along with him.

He buried his face in my neck. “I hated seeing his hands on you.” Then it was Anson biting me, marking me, my flesh throbbing as he sucked and his hands bruised my hips.

“You think it was easy on me? You want to want her. You want that perfect fucking hetero life with two point five kids. It fucking killed me to see you with Mia, to watch you and know how much simpler your life would be with her, to know if you could, you’d choose that life.”

“West,” he said, his voice broken, his eyes watery, pained.

I stopped whatever he was about to say with my mouth, taking what I wanted, what Anson was so willing to give me. This time, I was leading him, but I literally didn’t know where I was going. He was my boyfriend, and I didn’t know my way around his house since I’d only been there once. We ended up in the kitchen.

I ripped open his shirt, buttons flying, and shoved it along with his suit jacket off his shoulders. “Do you know how badly I wanted to claim you tonight? I wanted the privilege of being on your arm so the whole damn world knew you belonged to me.”

“I do. I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you.”

We were kissing again after that, Anson’s hands greedy for skin, jerking at my shirt until it was on the floor.

“I want you all over me.” Anson was backed against the center island, his eyes ablaze.

“Say it again.”

Somehow he knew exactly what I meant, and as I sucked another bruise on him, this one on his left pec, he growled out, “You’re mine. I’m yours. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

Anson fisted his hand in my hair and pushed my head as if I wasn’t biting hard enough. I released the spot, and he let out a sharp breath right before I did it again and again and again, coloring his chest with proof that he belonged to me.

He shoved his other hand between us, cupped me, and rubbed my aching cock through my clothes before letting go of my hair so he could work my pants open.

Our mouths met again in wet, hungry, possessive kisses while I opened his slacks, and then we were tugging each other’s down and fighting to get out of our shoes. We stood there together, naked in his kitchen, similar to the first time I’d had him in mine.

Anson cupped my face. This time when he moved in, he was gentle, pressing soft kisses to my mouth, licking at my lips. “I wanted you. Wanted to dance with you. Wanted you on my arm. Wanted to burn the motherfucking world down because I don’t have the guts to make that happen.”



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