Naked Truth (Scandalous Billionaires #3) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Scandalous Billionaires Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
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Her hand touches my face and just that easily, I’m hot and hard, and ready to fuck her here and now. Screw the hotel room. Screw breakfast. I nip her earlobe and groan with the effort it takes to walk away, and cross to enter the bathroom. Just inside the small room, the lingering scent of freshly-sprayed floral perfume insinuates itself into my nostrils and reminds me of every naked, unexpected moment I’d spent with her last night. Because everything with Emma has been unexpected.

I brush my teeth and when I’m done, I study the room with more thought. It’s square-shaped with white-tile and a simple tub to match the simple room. I frown at what might spell big money in San Francisco but doesn’t match the only daughter of the Knight king. And she has to pay rent for this? Something feels off.

I exit the room to find Emma by the bed. “I’m ready when you are,” she says, patting the small bag hanging on her shoulder. “I brought what I need to shower at the hotel and I got rid of the trash.”

She’s ready to leave and I suddenly wonder if she’s as eager as I am to be out of Knight territory. I wonder what reasons she has beyond the obvious to need escape. Closing the small space between us, I slide the bag off her shoulder, onto mine, and catch her hip. “You sure you don’t want to get away and stay at my place? Room service and us in bed?”

“Takeout and us in bed here,” she says, her hand on my cheek. “I’m not letting York run me out of my own apartment.”

It’s a smart answer, one of a strong woman who hasn’t denied abuse, and proves she isn’t beat but York is. He just doesn’t know it yet. “Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?”

“Obviously not too badly, since you still haven’t kissed me.”

I warned her that a kiss wouldn’t be enough and she didn’t listen. I toss her bag on the bed, preparing to make good on that promise.

Chapter nineteen

Jax

You still haven’t kissed me .

At Emma’s words, I catch the loose strands of her dark hair in my fingers, dragging her mouth to mine. “And now I have,” I say, my lips slanting over her lips and I lick past her teeth, the taste of her sweet in a way I wouldn’t have believed a Knight could ever be sweet. I fold her closer, and she makes this soft, sexy sound that drives me fucking wild. Everything about this woman affects me. For once, I’m not thinking about a fuck and a finish. I’m thinking about how I make her sigh for me again. I’m thinking about how I can send her to bed with my name on her lips, and her, all of her, on mine.

And that’s exactly where I want her now.

I slide my hands under the loose-fitting sweats to find no panties, and a free zone to that sweet spot between her legs. I settle on one knee, press my lips to her belly, dragging her sweats lower, squeezing her sweet little backside. Her fingers jab into my hair and I lean her on the bed, and drag her pants down her hips. “How’s this for a kiss?” I ask, my gaze catching hers before my tongue flicks her clit, a tease, a promise for more.

She sucks in a breath, her hands gripping the mattress. “Jax,” she whispers, my name on her lips, exactly what I want, her pleasure and nothing more. I can wait. She needs to know I don’t have to take. I’m not fucking York. Just thinking about him touching her, taking a belt to her in some mockery of sexual pleasure has me suckling her deeper, sliding a finger along her sex, seeking what he clearly did not. Her satisfaction.

Right now, I want and need what she claimed I can’t have, what I swore I’d never ask for. I want to own her, at least her pleasure, her body. I lick her again, my fingers flexing on her backside. There are so many things I want to do with Emma and to Emma, but I remind myself to go slow, she needs me to go slow, to focus on one orgasm and then the next.

I suckle her clit. I lick into her sex. I fuck her with my tongue, my mouth, fast and deep, and then I pull back. I slow myself down. I slow her down. Now it’s all about gentle, tender licks, the taste of her salty and sweet, the sounds she’s making—low pants and moans—tightening my balls. I want inside her. I want to thrust and drive and pump. I want all that wet, tight heat clenching my cock, and I show her with my mouth. Over and over I lick her until that last desperate lift of her hips, with my fingers buried deep inside her, sets her to trembling, spasms milking my fingers where I wish like fuck my cock was buried right now. She jerks and then moans before sitting up, leaning forward, and burying her face in my neck.


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