The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family #6) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Grassi Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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He didn’t stay frozen for long, though.

His hands slid up, slipping the straps off of my shoulders, then drifting down my back to unclasp the hooks, before drawing the material away completely.

I couldn’t really tell you if the way I shivered was in response to the cool air in the room on my bare skin, or the way he was looking at me as I sat there topless.

But then his hands were moving again, closing over the swells of my breasts. And, yeah, that shiver was everything to do with him.

His fingers squeezed before his thumbs and forefingers found my nipples and started to roll them.

My head fell back, my breaths coming in shallow waves as the pleasure grew.

My hips rocked against him, driving myself up.

When he leaned forward and sucked my nipple into his mouth, I swear I just about came right then and there, the white-hot pleasure exploding through my system.

But my hips kept rocking as his tongue traced, sucked, then moved across my chest to continue the sweet torment.

Then his hands were on my hips, pushing me away, off his lap. I moved on instinct, standing before I fell on my ass, as my mind tried to catch up with what was going on.

Before I could muster a single rational thought, though, his fingers were grabbing at the waistband of my pants, yanking them roughly down, pulling my panties with them, until the materials moved on their own, sliding down from my knees to the floor.

I stepped out of them as I watched August’s hungry gaze moving over every exposed inch of me.

When I started to plant a knee, ready to straddle him again, though, he grabbed me turning me, then yanking me back so I landed with my back to his chest, my ass nestled against his groin, his hardness still thick and aching.

One of August’s hands planted just under my breasts, holding me against him, while the other drifted down my belly, then lower.

My thighs parted for him, and his hand slipped between, stroking up my cleft, finding my clit, and working it with slow circles.

My head fell back on his shoulder, my eyes drifting closed to the feel of him as his thumb moved to my clit, so his fingers could slide inside me again.

Picking up exactly where we left off.

Only this time, there would be no interruptions.

So I let myself really drift down into the sensations, let the feel of his hard body behind mine, his strong hand on my chest, the spicy scent of his cologne, the steady thump of his heart, all of it, overwhelm me.

I was lost in him.

And myself.

And the moment as a whole.

I wasn’t pulled back out until August’s hands were moving away from me.

“No,” I whimpered, having been so close.

But he was grabbing me, turning me, tossing me back onto the cushions as he moved over me.

“I have to taste you,” he growled as he spread my legs wider, then lowered down between.

He kissed up one of my thighs until they were shaking before I finally felt his tongue on my clit, teasing, as his fingers slipped back inside, turning, stroking over my top wall as he continued to circle my clit.

My hands were in his hair, then crushing his skull as he drove me up.

I wasn’t even sure he could breathe when my thighs tightened on each side of his head, and my hips rose to meet his touch as he pushed me closer and closer to that cliff, then threw me over, leaving me to crash down into an orgasm.

My cries echoed out in the open space as shudders moved through me, as my whole body seemed to writhe and ride the waves of pleasure.

He barely let me come down before he was pulling out of my grips, his lips crashing down on mine.

Hard.

Hungry.

I met him in kind as his body shifted over me.

My hands grabbed his jacket, yanking it down and off, then reaching around to free his tie, then each of his shirt buttons until he shucked off the material with the same impatience I felt, and his bare chest pressed to mine, his hard lines meeting my soft curves.

My hands turned greedy, moving up and down his sides, back, shoulders, sinking into his ass. Then they were moving around, slipping between working his belt free, then his button and zipper.

“August,” I grumbled when I couldn’t get his pants down with him pressing so hard against me.

On a rumbling sound that vibrated through me, he shifted back, reaching for his wallet in his pocket before removing his pants and boxer briefs.

I was partially aware of him going into his wallet, but my focus was, well, somewhere else entirely.

My hand moved out, closing around his hard length. A shudder moved through him, and he hissed as I stroked him once, twice, my thumb teasing over the head.


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