Don’t Pretend I’m Yours Read Online Natasha Anders

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
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His gaze scraped over her face and body, not missing a single detail. It was a look that left every nerve ending in her body feeling raw and exposed. She was achingly aware of the picture she presented to those ravenous eyes, with the short skirt of her cute white sundress bunched up around her waist, lacy bikini panties on full display. And she wasn’t quite sure how it had happened but her aureoles were peeking over the top of the sweetheart neckline.

His eyes dropped to her breasts, narrowed intently, and lingered there.

Lilah’s breath hitched in her chest at the predatory gleam she saw in those beautiful eyes. He licked his kiss swollen lips and swallowed thickly before making a helpless little sound of surrender in the back of his throat and swooping down to clamp his lips over one of tightly-knotted tips of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress.

Lilah was helpless to stop the squeak of shocked delight from escaping her throat. His teeth, lips, and tongue plumped her eager nipple into shape before he moved over to the other one to lavish the same treatment upon it. When he finally lifted his head from her diamond hard, distended nipples, he brought up a hand to tug her bodice down and stare at his handiwork in smug satisfaction.

“Perfect,” he growled, one corner of his lips kicking up. He took a moment to suck each naked nipple in turn, deeply into his hot mouth and she cried out in helpless response to the stimulation. He lifted his head again to stare into her eyes. “Want me to do the same for your sweet little clit, cupcake? Want me to suck and lick and nibble until it’s plump and throbbing and needy? Until you’re wet and juicy and desperate for my cock?”

She arched helplessly at his words, grinding herself against his hardness in an attempt to ease the ache between her legs.

He chuckled, the sound rusty as a can of nails, and slid a hand down her flat belly and beneath the flimsy scrap of lace and silk covering her femininity. His fingers found her immediately, and she frantically rubbed herself against them, overly stimulated and in dire need of release. He laughed again, and kept his touch frustratingly light.

“Hell, mo leannan, you’re already wet and juicy and desperate, aren’t you?”

“Please,” she begged, tugging at the waist of his pants with her fingers in an attempt to help him slide them down his narrow hips. He gently pushed her hands aside and quickly and efficiently divested himself of both his pants and his already unbuttoned shirt. Lilah had only a brief moment to appreciate his perfect body before he pushed himself up to his knees—depriving her of his weight and warmth—to tug off her panties. She helped him eagerly, shimmying to get the superfluous scrap of fabric off.

He went for her dress next, dragging it up over her head and tossing it aside with a carelessness that showed little regard for the pricey Dolce and Gabbana cotton sundress.

The sudden wash of cool air on her overheated skin allowed a moment’s sobering clarity to creep into Lilah’s fuzzy brain. She wanted this. Needed it. But she couldn’t allow it to confuse the situation between them or further complicate their already messed up relationship.

Then his deft fingers found her clitoris and she just about leaped out of her skin at the longed-for contact, reason taking a flying leap out of the nearby window.

“Oh, God,” she mewled, and his eyes bored into hers, hair flopped over his forehead. The expression of intense concentration on his face gave him an evil genius kind of appeal that made her want him even more.

“Good?” As if he needed to ask. He expertly finessed her hard clit, stroking, circling, and occasionally dipping two and then three fingers into her tight, spasming channel, which greedily clutched at the intrusion, needing something longer, harder… thicker.

“Hmm,” she agreed. “So good.”

He smiled, a beautiful, perfect, open guileless smile but didn’t let up on the sweet torture.

“You’re so beautiful, Lilah,” he told her, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Or ever, Lilah thought with a cynical little twist of her lips, but she was immediately distracted when he twisted his fingers and sent her into a spasm of ecstasy.

“Want more?”

“Yes.”

He gave a satisfied little nod and hooked his palms under her butt to yank her roughly up over his hard thighs.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered gruffly. “But I want you sopping. I want you fucking drenched.”

Oh, God, what did that mean? Lilah wasn’t sure she could take much more of this… but he showed her exactly how much more she was capable of feeling when he lifted her up to his mouth. It was ridiculous, Lilah should have felt self-conscious when, instead of lowering himself to go down on her, he planted his palms on her ass cheeks and easily hoisted her lower body up to his mouth. But who had time to feel anything other than extreme pleasure when your extremely sexy husband draped your knees over his shoulders and with barely a tilt of his dark head, quite enthusiastically feasted on your already over-stimulated pussy and clit?


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