Last Love (The Love Duet #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: The Love Duet Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
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“Yes, baby,” he grumbles in approval, mouth now creeping towards my ear. “Fucking come for me.”

His thrusting remains ferocious.

Unsated.

“Keep coming for me.”

White-hot, sticky juices do their best to drown his dick and prove our deference.

“Never stop coming for me.”

The thrumming of my pussy should cease yet somehow starts all over again, pushing me to fight against his frame to wrap my legs around his waist for much needed leverage. Another window shattering scream escapes alongside the thundering crackles outside and for the first time since our bodies connected, his movements falter.

There’s an unevenness in his breath.

The stiffness of his cock strains the sensitive muscles to their limits and his grip on me begins to shake.

Greed whirls around my gaze during my purred proclamation, “Your turn, Ry.”

An animalistic grunt is all I’m given prior to teeth sinking into my skin and scorching hot streams splashing against my most intimate depths. My pussy squeezes and milks and gorges on the thick reward, intrigued and infatuated with the new sensation settling itself inside me, pruriently painting the place only Ry has ever had the privilege of declaring as home.

Pleased hums seep from me while my sweat-covered frame untangles itself from him to sag into the mattress.

Despite my legs stretching against the sheets, Ry retains his grip on my arms during his body’s shifting to meet my stare.

Seeing unmistakable love linger in bright hues I thought would only haunt me leads to the biting of my bottom lip.

And the flexing of my fingers to caress him.

And the whimpered request to reaffirm everything once more. “Again?”

“Again.” The man who is somehow simultaneously the love of my life and total stranger slowly circles his hips, softening shaft stirring for a second round. “And again.” He drags one hand the length of my frame to yank the leg now in his grip back around him. “And again, Presley Morrison.” His mouth lowers so that the final line is whispered against my lips. “Until death parts us.”

Our tongues sign the agreement without ironing out the details or even thinking about the consequences.

We need to talk.

Like we really need to talk.

About that.

About what this is.

About what everything means, what’s been lost, and what we both want from what’s been found.

Like I said we need to talk.

Just not right now.

It’s been fucking years since the deck of life dealt me this much bliss.

And the truth is, I’m not quite ready to get up from the metaphorical table yet.

Maybe in an hour.

Or four.

Or whenever we have to stop to order pizza for fuel.

In the meantime?

I’m gonna enjoy every win and any win I possibly can.

Chapter 9

Presley

Discussion Topic 5: …But Don’t Repeat It, Either.

Wow.

Did last night really happen?

Did I really just fall into bed with my ex-boyfriend or was it all some sexy – very sexy – twisted hallucination I let myself masturbate too hard to which is why I’m so sore?

“Hey you,” a voice that I could pinpoint in the middle of a death metal concert coos near my ear.

My eyes spring open to a blurry sight that re-instills the previous disbelief.

Okay.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

We really did have sex – the best sex I’ve ever had for the record.

And cuddle.

And share a pepperoni and black olive pizza in uncomfortable silence until I brought up the time in high school when he joined an all you can eat challenge for charity and lost to one of the new freshman linebackers.

Laughing at the memory broke the tension, caused us to accidentally break the box, and eventually guided us back into the sheets where we went another two rounds before passing out.

Was sleeping with him the most responsible thing I’ve done?

Far from it.

Do I regret it?

Absolutely. Fucking. Not.

My glasses are gingerly and unexpectedly glided onto my face. The action alone is enough to get me swooning yet seeing his messy hair, bright blue eyes, and even brighter grin intensifies the happy sigh. “Hi you.”

A bashful beam is flashed prior to him pushing a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Sleep okay?”

Such an innocent question but one no one has asked me in years.

Being touched by the sentiment makes it impossible to do more than nod at first. “You?”

“Best I’ve had in an over a decade.” His words take on a double-entendre as he lets his gaze drink in my naked frame that’s barely being covered by a sheet.

I playfully push at his shoulder, giggling the instant he starts snickering.

“I hate that I have to say this shit but…,” Ry’s hesitation prompts me to tense, “I gotta be at work in like forty-five minutes.”

Relief that it wasn’t something else like him having a girlfriend or a fucking wife – shit we should definitely touch on – instantly settles in my expression.

“Mind if I use your shower?”

An idea to be spontaneous once more hits me. “Mind if I share it?”


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