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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And she does.

She comes so sweetly I fuck right through her first orgasm, so hard she arches and comes for a gasping eternity.

Together, we plow through it.

She’s panting like a cat in heat, coming down from the high, her mouth hanging open.

Then my mouth eclipses hers and I pull her hair tighter, thrusting deeper, more greedy for this than any time I’ve ever fucked in my life.

I’m afraid I’ll bruise her, but I can’t stop.

Not now.

Not tonight.

In a better life, not ever.

She pushes herself against me just as desperately, all the worries and passions and future agonies buried in our rhythm.

Her tits swing like soft round pendulums on her chest, inviting me to maul her.

Feeling her pert nipples grazing my chest does me in.

“Damn it, Delia, do you know what you do?” I rasp. “Love every inch of you. Love the way you make me come. I fucking love you.”

Shit!

What the hell did I just say?

Evidently, she can’t believe it either, judging by the startled look that’s not just pleasure flaring in her eyes.

Still, it can’t stop the imminent explosion ripping through my balls, sure to set her off all over again.

My vision blurs, turning the Vegas lights reflected in the glass into hot pinpricks of stars.

Fire slashes through me as my cock stabs deep and levels out.

Every part of me splits, burns, breaks.

I am inferno.

All fire.

All smoke.

All seething flesh made for one purpose, hurling my seed deep inside her.

I fill her pussy up with a guttural roar until she overflows around my dick.

Her nails rake my back as she clings on so tight, begging for more, drilling the molten come I’ve pumped into her deeper, deeper, yet still not deep enough.

Never fucking enough because we never want this to end.

Only her kiss brings me back to Earth.

Confusion shines in her eyes.

Yeah, we both know I fucked up royal with—whatever the actual hell my mouth dumped in the heat of the moment.

I fucking love you.

Goddamn.

I’ll blame it on the moment, the passion, the fire screaming through my balls.

I have to.

Thankfully, she doesn’t press me.

We don’t talk about it.

I pull out of her and push my hand between her legs, holding my release in her, needing to know she’s full of me.

Until tonight, I’ve never wanted to mark a woman from the inside out.

Never wanted to keep doing it incessantly, either.

With Delia—sweet, impossible, sanity-killing Delia—it doesn’t feel like I can ever fill her enough, even when she’s leaking me everywhere.

And I’m worried about her?

I should look in the damn mirror.

How the hell do I survive next week?

What even is the rest of my life?

I have no answers.

I’ve never felt this spell before and it’s scattering my brain in a hundred directions like marbles bouncing around inside a runaway train.

This night is all I can handle and all we have.

So I take her hand and lead her inside, where I get her on all fours, splayed out on the bed.

I do the only thing I know how to do over and over again.

I leave us so tangled and spent and exhausted we don’t dare mention my touchy-feely moose of a mouth.

We’ll sleep like the dead on the flight home tomorrow.

I want to leave her body too sore to move, but not her heart.

Because I meant what I told her.

After tonight, she needs to move on.

Not marvel at the biggest jackass move of my life where my dick took down my senses.

Not wonder if my saying something monumentally stupid means we were always meant for more.

* * *

I drop her off at home the next day after leaving the airport and then beeline it to the office.

Technically, we haven’t gotten the all clear.

Technically, I don’t give a shit.

I can’t spend another second in that house pretending Delia just shares a wall and hasn’t been warming my bed for the past week.

The whole time I’m in the operation center, hunched over a secure computer, I can’t stop thinking about those big brown woebegone eyes the last time we kissed just before she hopped out of my truck.

Christ, I need distance.

And just when I think I’m about to get it, a hand like a bear paw claps me on the shoulder.

“You massive skirt-chasing buffalo, what the hell were you thinking?”

Before I can whirl around, Sexton wheels my chair against the wall. For a grizzled man who’s almost twice my age, he’s pure muscle, and what he lacks in size, he makes up for with a chip on his shoulder bigger than a sequoia tree.

“Not even a hello?” I grind out.

“Fuck you, Triton. You think you’re being cute in the middle of this, scaring me half to death?”

“Now you’re telling me we’re not safe here in our own office? You really want me under house arrest?”

“I want you to stay put in one city, not risking tripping over your own dick. When I heard you blew town for your Vegas excursion with that girl, I wanted to go there myself to drag you back. Only, the boss disagreed—and just look what happened.”


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