Tracker (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #3) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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“Don’t worry, you’ll get fucked,” he said, staring up at her from his spot cradled in the ‘V’ of her legs. “But not until I’ve sated myself on this delicious pussy.”

Thank God she was already on her back, or she’d have crumpled to the floor like some swooning Victorian-era lady.

“Well,” she said, already growing breathless. “If that’s how you feel, I guess I’d be a bitch to stop you.”

He laughed again. “So you gonna shut up and let me do whatever the fuck I want to this pussy?”

“Hell yes.” Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head, and he’d barely started.

“Changed my mind. Don’t shut up. Feel free to scream my name as loud as you fucking can.” He went right back to teasing her with his tongue, drawing a loud groan from her. Screaming his name would be inevitable if he kept that up.

She closed her eyes and let her head drop back on the couch as she threaded her fingers through his hair. When she gripped the strands tight and jerked her hips up, his mouth grew more aggressive. He fucked her with his tongue in some sinful combination of thrusting, suction, and licks. Moan after moan flowed from her. Her nipples ached for some action, but she couldn’t fathom releasing her grip on his head to attend to it herself.

Thoughts of her job disappeared, Lock was forgotten, and her worry over what would become of her and Tracker vanished in a passionate cloud of lust. The world outside their two naked bodies ceased to exist. She could have stayed there forever, luxuriating in the way he played with her clit, lapped at her arousal, and hummed his enjoyment with every taste.

But then, as good as it was, and as much as she wanted to come while he ate her out, she needed more. Something more substantial inside her, making her squirm at the stretch. Something moving hard and roughly driving her toward the climax.

“Tracker,” she said on a low groan as he sucked her clit. “Please. I need you to fuck me. Now.”

“Not yet.”

“Tracker, please!”

“Come first,” he slid two fingers into her as his tongue lashed at her clit, and she nearly did just that.

Her back bowed, and she cried out. Years of being told how to walk and dress by men, being judged by men, and being told what she could and couldn’t do by men had her learned instinct to balk at his command flaring to life. But it couldn’t hold a candle to the desperate need for a room-shaking climax or a deeply instinctual desire to please him. So when he flexed those long fingers and licked over her clit again, she squeezed her eyes shut and gave herself over to it. She yanked his hair and held him against her as she worked her pelvis on his fingers.

“Shit! Oh, God. Tracker.” Sunlight burst behind her eyes as the intense pleasure only he seemed to be able to bring tore through her. It went on for long seconds, rippling her muscle and making her shout in relief. Just as her body began the slow, delicious descent back to earth, Tracker entered her with a swift, powerful thrust. He kissed her as she gripped his back to hold him as close as possible. She’d never let a man kiss her directly after going down on her. The idea of it had never appealed to her, but she had to admit there was something incredibly hot about sharing her own flavor with him.

Her head spun as he drove her straight back toward a second monster orgasm. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth as he fucked into her at a furious pace. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if he’d thought of a condom, but she trusted him, so she let the worry go the way of all her other problems. Lost in oblivion.

“I could spend the next year right here in this tight pussy. It’s fucking paradise.”

A hitch in his voice had her opening her heavy eyes.

Her breath caught in her lungs. Tracker lay above her, jaw tense as he rolled his hips over and over. Sweat coated his forehead and shoulders. The mohawk he’d been wearing slicked back the past week stuck out in a wild mess from her enthusiastic fingers.

But none of that was what had her body freezing up. It was the warmth and affection in his gaze as it locked with hers. He slowed his movements to a lazy, unhurried rhythm sure to drive her insane.

She liked sex hard and fast.

“Tracker,” she said with a whimper.

This slow, tender pace forced her to feel too much and allowed him to see over her walls. She fought to keep her barriers fortified, but he had other ideas.

“You’re stunning.” He spoke in a low tone even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “Not the way you look, although I think you know how beautiful you are. Everything about you is stunning. Your intelligence, your bravery, your independence, and your heart.”



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