Northern Twilight (The Highlands #5) Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Highlands Series by Samantha Young
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
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“Fuck,” Lewis groaned before he licked my clit.

“Uh!” My back bowed as unbelievably my lower belly clenched again.

“You are actually dripping,” he murmured hoarsely, and I looked down to find him staring at me as if he’d like to eat me alive. “I’m so hard, I could pound a fucking brick in half.” On that note, I watched as he pushed his tongue into me.

He didn’t stop. He licked and sucked and devoured me with his mouth until I was crying out his name and shuddering around him.

As if he couldn’t control himself any longer, Lewis hopped off the couch and shucked out of his jeans and boxers. I gaped dazedly at his erection because it was straining toward his stomach, thick, angry, red, and the tip weeping with precum. “The best part of you being pregnant,” he said gruffly as he came back down over me, “I can take you bare.”

I chuckled, excitement making it breathy. “The best part?”

“It’s a perk.” He grinned wickedly and then his expression turned fierce and wanting as he pinned my hands to the couch and nudged inside me.

While I was soaked, I was also tight and swollen from multiple orgasms and I tilted my hips trying to ease his way. His thickness was such a relief, I moaned, muttering love and sex words as if I couldn’t help myself.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Lewis groaned as he slid home. His arms trembled and he bowed his head, as if trying to gain control.

I smoothed a hand over his back, able to be patient now that he’d brought me to several climaxes.

“You feel so good and I want you so much.” He raised his head to look at me, his features tight with strain as if he was struggling to hold back his orgasm.

“It’s okay to come,” I promised him.

In answer, he kissed me, hungry and deep and filled with so much longing. As his hips started to move, I felt that tension inside me catch, and I gasped in disbelief. Lewis broke the kiss. “Again?”

“It would seem so,” I huffed out as each drive pushed me toward the edge.

“Then you’re coming first.” His grip on my wrists tightened, and he pulled out almost all the way and drove back in.

“Harder.”

His lips twisted. “I’m trying to be careful.”

“You don’t need to be that careful. Fuck me harder.”

“Jesus!” His hips snapped against mine. Harder.

I clutched his hips with my inner thighs, helpless beneath his grip and unable to do anything but take him.

“I love your pussy,” Lewis confessed as if in awe. “Your taste, your heat. I could die while coming inside you and die a very happy fucking man.”

“God, I love when you talk to me like that,” I groaned, throwing my head back as he thrust into me, every glide a little harder.

“I want you on every surface of this house,” he confessed. “We’re going to fuck in every room so that every room I walk into, I’ll have a memory of being buried inside you.”

The tension in me exploded, and I came around him so hard, I felt my muscles clamp down on him and squeeze.

“Fuck!” he bellowed as I milked his orgasm from him.

Lewis grunted and groaned like an animal as he throbbed and released inside me. The sensation was so good. So unbelievably good.

He collapsed, still careful to hold most of his weight off me.

We both lay there, damp with sweat, our bodies humming with utter repletion.

Then Lewis pressed a kiss to my neck and proved me wrong with a murmured, “I’m going to be hard again in five minutes.”

“Good.” I wrapped my arms and legs around him. “Because I’ve probably got a few more orgasms still left in me.”

Thirty-Three

LEWIS

Light streamed down from the domed roof of the museum as I followed Callie through the Grand Gallery.

Years ago, Dad brought me and Eilidh to the National Museum in Scotland, but I could barely remember the trip. Callie’s grandparents on Walker’s side were from the Edinburgh area, so I knew she’d visited a few times over the years, but this was her first time at the National, and it was the first time in days something other than me had her full attention.

The woman had been insatiable, and I wasn’t complaining. Not in the least. Despite the lack of sleep these past few days, I was like a live wire. Callie had trained me to respond in seconds. As soon as she turned those hot eyes on me, I was ready to give her what she needed.

Right now, apparently that was learning about the twenty-thousand artefacts housed in the museum. And she wanted to see the Scottish gallery, to learn about Scotland through the ages.

“I may not have been born a Scot,” she’d said, flipping through the museum’s information leaflet, “but I might as well have been.” Her smile had caused feeling to expand in my chest. “The Adairs go back how many centuries? And I have a wee Adair brewing in my belly. I’ve never felt more Scottish.”


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