The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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I almost keel over right there.

“See? Do you see how much you wreck me, woman?” he whispers roughly. “How much you fucking smoke when you’re full of this dick?”

I answer with a moan, struggling not to come on the spot because I’m that determined to show him the true meaning of wrecked.

My tongue maps his cock, every lick slowly revealing the spots that make him jerk and hitch.

I swirl it deeper into the crown around his head, tasting his pre-come, my pulse echoing in my ears as he flexes and curses.

“Shit, baby. You’re a goddamned natural. You’re lucky I don’t just unload down your throat.”

Oh, mama.

His crudeness should turn me off.

But it doesn’t.

I’m so wet I could die, and die happily.

The jade inferno in his eyes says he actually might do what he threatened, too, and I might not mind it one bit.

Maybe it’s more than I can handle, but I’m so willing to try.

A new climax builds in my core, turning my face red.

My mouth glides up his magnificent shaft and back down again, quickly and firmly, working for a reward I never knew I wanted so badly.

My eyes narrow.

I’m about to explode.

There’s something shamefully reverent about being crouched on the bed with my mouth full of my badass stepbrother.

If I’m going to be defiled, it’s by him, and only him.

I’m so deep in the zone I’m not expecting the way he fists my hair and jerks my head back, tearing me off his cock.

I look up, wondering if I did something wrong.

But his eyes are twinkling. Full of wonder.

“Down on the bed, princess. Spread your legs,” he growls, giving me a gentle push backward.

I feel the huge bed sink beneath his weight, and he’s holding me, pulling me so close as I shift toward the center of the massive bed.

Sweet Jesus.

It’s really happening.

My legs are fire as I open them for him.

I barely notice he’s snuck a condom out of his pocket before losing his pants.

Even how he tears the foil with his teeth is sexy, and so is the way he needs his entire fist to roll it down his length...

I. Am. Gone.

He moves forward, guiding his cock against my opening.

He flicks his tip against my pussy, melding into my folds, one shallow thrust away from owning what’s his.

“You are stunning,” he whispers so slowly.

He stops and his mouth comes down on mine, frantic and hotter than ever, a savage hunger hidden in his tongue as he shoves it against mine.

“Chris,” I whisper, dragging my nails against his chest.

“If you fuck half as good as you suck cock, Delia, we’ll spend the rest of this trip in bed. Once I take this pussy, I’m never gonna stop. Never.”

Oh, God.

Does he mean it?

The ragged way he says it amps up my heartbeat.

I force myself to look at him and suck my bottom lip, reaching out to touch him.

I want to feel him in all his solid, stone-hearted wonder.

In my wildest fantasies, I never imagined I’d be with a man like this.

Never imagined I’d have him after I found out who he was, even though I wanted to until not having him felt like a phantom limb.

We haven’t even done the deed, and this already feels like so much more than one torrid night.

I’m afraid to admit it, but I know.

I just don’t have to think about that right now.

Not with Chris’ hands all over me, cupping my breasts, pushing my nipples between his palms.

He brings his hot lips down my neck, stopping at my right globe, pulling the bud there between his teeth.

Too damn good.

That goes for everything about him, actually.

By any sane measure, I’m the one who’s too good for him. Millionaire’s daughter, teacher’s pet, punching my ticket to a happy, successful, easy life where I could have any safe, boring man I’d ever want.

And yet here I am.

Here I go, coming apart for this hulking sailor with a mouth worthy of one, begging him to fuck me with every raw gasp and scratch and soft little roll of my hips.

Why does it feel like he’s too good for me?

Like I’m not worthy to be under his fleshly masterpiece?

He releases my nipple with a groan, kissing his way back to my mouth, pulling me in for another long round of lips and teeth.

I’m losing my mind and I’m okay with it.

Moving my lips off his, I push my mouth to his ear, brushing my nails on the back of his neck. “Now, Chris. I’m ready. Take me. I’m yours for tonight.”

And I want to be yours after Vegas.

I keep that part to myself, and it isn’t hard with his jade-green eyes beaming pure drunken desire into mine.

There’s heaven and hell and worlds I don’t even understand in his gaze.

I’m afraid I’m already addicted.

He shifts, pushing my legs around him with his hands before aiming his tip against my wetness. This time, there’s an insistent pressure.



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