Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2) Read Online L.H. Cosway

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Quiet Love Series by L.H. Cosway
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Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
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“Me, too. I don’t like to leave a wedding empty handed.”

With that, she turned her attention back to Jonathan and began flirting her absolute butt off. By the end of the night, though, they didn’t end up leaving together, and Rhys was ushering the two of us back to his car to drive us home. My entire body buzzed during the drive because Nuala’s place was nearest, and when Rhys dropped me at my apartment, I was going to invite him up. I wanted him in my bed. Preferably for the next two days. I was pretty sure I had enough food to see us through.

“So, it didn’t work out with Jonathan?” I asked as I peered at Nuala through the overhead mirror.

Rhys frowned. “What didn’t work out with Jonathan?”

Nuala huffed a sigh, sitting sideways with a sullen, drunk expression. “Don’t remind me. I’m so embarrassed,” she moaned and put her hands over her eyes.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I basically laid myself out on a plate, and he had the bloody nerve to say, ‘Sorry, love, but you’re not my type.’ Oh, man. I’m murderous right now.”

“You propositioned that arsehole?” Rhys said in disbelief as he shook his head. “You’ve only got yourself to blame. Everyone knows he can be an abrasive fucker.”

“Yes, well,” Nuala harumphed, folding her arms. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“It’s his loss,” I said. “Besides, how are you not his type? You’re perfect. You’re everyone’s type.”

“Aww, Charli. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” she said with a pleased sigh.

Rhys cast me a warm look before focusing back on the road. By the time we dropped Nuala off at her place, I was practically overflowing with nervous anticipation. A part of me felt like calling Anna-Marie and asking if she thought it was too impulsive to sleep with Rhys right away, but obviously, I couldn’t wake her up for something so trivial. Besides, it felt right. As far as I was concerned, being with Rhys could never be a mistake.

“Here we are. Get some rest, okay?” Rhys said as he parked outside my building. “It’s been a long day.” Leaning across the centre console, he caught my lips in a sweet goodnight kiss and I hitched a breath.

“What if I don’t want to rest yet?” I asked, and his gaze became hooded, needful.

Without even answering the question, Rhys’ lips were on mine again with more force as he practically devoured me. Our hands grabbed for one another desperately before he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine just as he did earlier in the night.

“Are you sure about this?”

“More sure than anything in my life,” I answered resolutely.

A second later, he was hauling me out of the car, and I was fumbling for my keys as I led him inside the building and up to my apartment on the second floor. Thrilling, nervous energy filled me when we reached my door, and Rhys’ heat met my back, his breath fanning across my neck as I struggled to slot the key in.

“You’re taking too long,” he growled, softly biting the back of my neck, and I fell forward with a moan, my bones melting at the possessive nip. Luckily, it was almost three in the morning, and my neighbours were more than likely fast asleep in their beds.

At last, I got the door open, and we tumbled inside, a flurry of kisses and groping hands. Rhys’ shirt was open, and the back of my dress was partway undone. I stepped out of my heels, and Rhys’ shoulder knocked into the wall. He made a grunting sound, complaining, “This apartment is far too small,” before his mouth was back on me.

Bobby let out a complaintive “Meow” that said he didn’t appreciate being woken up. Rhys pulled back, noticing my cat for the first time as he said, “Bloody hell, he’s massive.”

“He’s a Maine coon, and his name is Bobby. He likes ear scratches and belly rubs.”

Rhys’ smile was indulgent. “Good to know.”

Somehow, we made it to the bedroom, and Rhys decided to slow things down, taking his time kissing and stripping me until I was a mess of wanton need lying naked on the cool linen sheets.

“Come here,” I begged, my gaze sultry as I watched him stand by the foot of the bed, sexily unbuckling his belt as his eyes feasted on my bare flesh.

“Come where?” he murmured, shoving down his pants then climbing between my legs. He cupped me, and I bit my lip at the feel of his large, rough hand against my throbbing sex. Rhys tilted his head, “Here?”

“Yes,” I breathed. “I need you now.”

His smile was pure sin as he produced a condom—I wasn’t sure where from—and slid it down his thick shaft. Moments later, he pushed inside, and I cried out, gripping his shoulders as he thrust with abandon. Somehow, he fucked me and made love to me all at the same time, alternating between fast and hard, slow and tender, his lips nibbling at my breasts, nose sliding up my throat and along my jaw. I felt consumed, and there was no one else I would rather be obliviated by.


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