Flaunt – Carmichael Family Read Online Adriana Locke

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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I laugh as he spreads my thighs farther apart. “You could have patience and wait.”

“Waiting is overrated.”

My heart pounds. “You seem to have tons of patience tonight.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“An annoying one.”

He smirks. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know how in the hell I have this much patience when your pussy is so close to my face.”

Fuck. Me.

I can barely register that when his finger slides through my wetness.

“Ooh,” I say, hissing a breath and spreading my legs so far apart that they burn. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

His grin is slow and oh-so sexy. “Okay. Tell me. How fast do you want to get there?”

“Now would be great—ah,” I say, as one finger dips into me and another finds my clit. “Yes. Now.”

He chuckles, massaging slow, small circles against my swollen bud. “Do you know what I really like?”

I hum, my eyes falling closed at the pleasure rolling through me in soft waves.

“Watching your face turn pink and wondering if it matches the color of your pussy,” he says.

Dear God. “There’s only one way to find out.”

He withdraws his touch. But before I can protest, he’s pulling the top of my dress down. Seams crack at the quick and harsh movement.

“Don’t break it,” I cry as he pulls a breast into his mouth. “This is your mom’s.”

He holds a nipple between his teeth and looks up at me, grinning. “It’s fine. She never expects anything to come back without it being broken. Trust me. Years of experience.”

I laugh, but it instantly changes to a hiss. “Banks.”

He flicks my nipple with his tongue while rolling the other around in his fingers. I’m dripping wetness down my legs, my thighs sticky.

He’s. Barely. Touched. Me.

How can he do that?

My thoughts are going a mile a minute, but I can’t land on any one of them in particular. This is new territory—unhurried … and sweet. We’ve been at this for however long, and it’s been all about me.

How wonderfully strange.

I tip my head back, pushing my chest toward Banks. He licks, nips, and squeezes harder and faster—his hips raising up as if they, too, are dying for relief.

He pulls back and gathers my dress. The look he gives me is pure heat.

A filthy smile stretches across his face as he scoots around and lies on the couch. My brows pull together, unsure of what’s happening until I’m not unsure anymore.

I gasp a quick breath as he urges me forward—toward his face. I’m still straddling him and it takes little effort to move from his waist to over his head.

He lines his mouth up to my pussy. Oh. My. God.

Banks holds my dress at my hip with one hand, but I do him a favor—me a favor?—and relinquish him of his duties. He smirks.

My heart thunders so hard that I can feel the pulses in my sex. Banks urges me toward him. I comply.

He holds my gaze, dragging a finger slowly through my slit. It’s so wet, so ready for him.

“Whatever you want me to do, all you have to do is ask,” he says, his voice gruff. “You never have to just take what you’re given. Do you know that?”

Everything tightens—my chest, my core, my heart.

The juxtaposition of the moment steals my breath. The sweet, vulnerable look in his eye. The rough, raw timbre to his words. The feel of his fingers strumming slowly in and out of my body. And all of this with his lips inches from my opening.

This man is nothing like I expected. He’s more in every way.

And that’s a little terrifying.

“If a man doesn’t understand how lucky he is to be able to touch you, don’t let him,” he says, twisting his finger as he withdraws it from me. “But I know, so let me.”

I laugh, my chest so constricted that it hurts to breathe.

“But you’re lucky too,” he says, winking.

Don’t I know it—oof.

My body sags against his face as he flicks his tongue against my clit. He circles the pulsing bud before sucking it into his mouth.

“Banks!”

The room blurs as wave after wave of intensity rips me from reality.

“Do you like that?” he asks, flicking it again.

“Yes,” I say through clenched teeth.

He adds a finger, then two, stroking me slowly, then quicker—hard, soft, and rough. I grind against his hand and use my free hand to press his face deeper against me. Urging him to keep going. Begging him for more.

Banks understands the assignment.

He works me over without finding a rhythm. It keeps me on the edge and frenzied, ready to fall apart. What never stops is the constant contact of his mouth against my pussy. The noises filling the air as his mouth sucks and kisses could make me come on its own.

I regrip my dress, clenching it in my sweaty palm. My thighs ache. My core pulls so tight that I wince.


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