Perfect Grump – Bad Chicago Bosses Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Billionaire, New Adult, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
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“You’re always sexy, brat,” I whisper.

“In three-year-old fleece pajamas?” She laughs. “I’m sure.”

No lie. I’m so hard I could hit a home run.

She’s got my shirt splayed open now and presses one hand to my abs, dragging her nails down with a lust-sigh that makes me throb.

“One of the things I love about you most is your honesty. You’re real. That’s more than enough. Besides, lingerie doesn’t leave shit to the imagination,” I tell her.

She blushes and giggles softly. “So you love me because I don’t try hard enough?”

“I love you, woman. Let’s stick with that.”

Honestly, I might start reciting Shakespeare if that’s what she wants—and after the way I butchered The Odyssey, it’d be cringe.

Buttons undone, I lose my shirt.

Then I cup her hips with my hands, lean down, and press my lips to hers, drinking her in with a feral groan. She traces my lips with her tongue.

I take every unruly bit of her mouth, reclaiming what’s mine.

She moves closer. Her arms wind around my neck. One leg slides around my waist.

She pulls me down with her lushness.

Her back slides against the mattress, but I’m worried I might break her in my fury.

“Is this okay?” I whisper, my forehead nudging hers.

She nods.

“I don’t want to hurt you or—”

“You want me.” She smiles, her expression shadowed with desire. “I can feel it through your slacks.”

I kiss her so hard it’s sinful. She shifts against my leg, damn near dry-humping me.

Fuck.

I can barely tear myself away.

“Nick, if you don’t make love to me now, I’m going to regret giving you another chance,” she hisses.

God, this woman.

It’s hard to believe she was a virgin when I met her.

“I have you, and we’ve got all night, darling. Patience,” I say.

Her very impatient lips find mine again and her nails dig at my neck.

I’m down on her like a thunderbolt, hands relishing her skin, lost in the passion until I flip her over.

I roll off her and pull her on top of me.

“Like this. Spread your legs for me,” I order.

Biting her lip, she presses the core of her body over my hardness.

Even through the fleece pajama bottoms, my slacks, and underwear, her warmth entices me. I need more if I want to keep breathing.

I groan like a frustrated bull.

Grinning, she pushes against me again. “You like that, bossman?”

How the hell could I not?

“I’ve corrupted you,” I say with a grin. “Once upon a time, you were so—”

Her hips swing against me again, bringing this wicked friction.

“On second thought, fuck innocent,” I snarl, pulling the fleece nightshirt over her head. She’s not wearing a bra. Firm, round tits hang so close to my face with her nipples already peaked and begging.

When I slide my tongue over a cherry peak, sucking it into my mouth, she falls back with a seductive whine.

“Ohhh, yeah. Yeah, I’ve missed that,” she whispers. She cups my jaw with a needy glare.

It’s my turn to grind against her, and I put my power into it.

She whimpers again as I nip her breast with my teeth.

I need to be inside her right now, but I’ll hold out until she cries for it.

I want this to be a night she remembers. A night she’d change nothing about. A night so intense it torches every doubt inside her head.

Her hands move to my pants.

I snort like a caged animal as she grabs the button, insane with anticipation.

Still, I keep my hands on her hips until she’s pushed my pants and boxers down past my thighs in a ragged heap.

I work the pajamas off her like a man possessed. When it comes to her panties, my patience is gone. Nostrils flaring at her scent, I rip them in half, throwing the tattered cloth across the room.

“Need you, sweetheart. Need you fucking now.” My voice is so guttural it almost scares me, my dick pulsing so hard I’m almost faint from blood loss in my head.

Goddamn. I might actually die from this fuck, but if I do, know I went to meet my maker happy as a lark.

We toss. We wrestle. We roll with delight.

She lowers herself over me with a fraught look.

Every muscle in my body goes taut, coiled with a tension I want to throw into her. An endorphin storm engulfs me, and there’s still too much space between us.

Shifting us to the edge of the bed, I sit so I can press her body to mine. This spell only works with her skin on mine.

Her arms and legs tie around me as I move her like a doll, shoving her down on my length in one jerk.

“Nick!” It’s barely a breath on her lips.

It’s my name. Equal parts curse and vow.

It’s a sound I never thought I’d hear again—one I’m not sure I deserve—but now that I’ve got it, I mean to own it for the rest of my days.


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