Scooped (V-Card Diaries #5) Read Online Lili Valente

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: V-Card Diaries Series by Lili Valente
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
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My heart cracks right in half. “What are you afraid of?”

“Not mattering. Wasting the time I’ve been given. Looking back in twenty years and wishing I’d done everything differently.”

She looks so vulnerable—the fear etched in her eyes, the downward turn of her mouth, the furrow between her brows—some primal instinct claws its way out of my chest, and all I can think about now is how badly I want to protect her. How much I want to take away her pain.

How desperately I need her to see herself the way I see her.

I cup her face in my hands, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. “This is only the beginning for you. You’re fierce and talented and smart as hell—with or without the costume. Personally, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind for a second in weeks.”

“That’s only because I’ve infiltrated your workplace, passed out in front of your office, and—”

“No. It’s because you inspire me. Because you’re an amazing human being.” I hesitate a beat, but I can’t hold back the rest of the words desperate to make their way out. “And because, ever since we kissed, all I can think about is how badly I want to kiss you again.”

Her breath hitches. “You do?”

“I was so zoned out today, Rictor told me go home and sleep it off.” I slide my thumb across her lower lip. “I’m still thinking about it, El. Right now.”

“Me, too,” she whispers, breath as soft as powder.

“Good to know.” I lean down, bringing my lips to hers, but it’s nothing like our first kiss.

This kiss is hungry, starving, almost savage.

Her hands twist into the front of my shirt, and I grab her around the waist and lift her onto the countertop, shifting between her thighs. She tastes like creamy coffee and cinnamon and raw, unfiltered Ellie, and if I drop dead right here, her legs wrapped around me, her hands on my chest, I’ll say it was a life well lived.

She moans against my lips, driving me wild.

I need to touch her, to feel her against my skin. All of her.

I slide my hands up her outer thighs, warm and silky-smooth inside the borrowed shorts, and she inches forward on the countertop until I’ve got a handful of her firm, perfect ass.

But it’s not enough. Not for either of us.

“More kissing, less clothes?” I ask, voice rough with need.

“Fewer,” she pants.

“What?”

“It’s fewer clothes, not less. Although you could say ‘less clothing.’”

“I have an idea. Fewer clothes, fewer interruptions from the grammar police, and more time for coming our brains out.”

“Brilliant.” Ellie laughs, kissing me again. She slides off the counter, and we stumble into the bedroom together, stripping as we go, crashing onto the bed in a tangle of bare arms and legs, Ellie’s dark brown hair a stark contrast against my white duvet.

Finally freed from the confines of my dress pants, my rock-hard cock throbs against her damp thighs, but I’m not about to rush things with Ellie. I want to take her in, kiss by kiss, one sexy moment at a time.

I start with her collarbone, blazing a trail of kisses from one shoulder to the other, then down to her breasts. She gasps my name, her back arching as I suck one of her tight peaks into my mouth, but I don’t stop, sucking her harder, grazing her with my teeth, pushing her to the edge before turning my attention to the other breast, every movement driving her wild. I can’t get enough of her, my senses overloaded by the silk of her skin, her taste, the way she writhes beneath me.

I can’t wait another minute. I need to make her come.

I drag my mouth down her stomach, tracing a path between her thighs, slowly guiding her legs apart. My tongue swirls over her clit, and Ellie threads her hands into my hair.

“Oh, God,” she moans, nails digging into my scalp.

It’s all the invitation I need.

I grab her thighs and slide my tongue inside her. Her taste is intoxicating, flooding my mouth as she arches her back and rocks her hips against my kiss. I’m drunk on her—her scent, her toned thighs, the moans she makes as I fuck her with my mouth.

“Jack,” she breathes, fisting my hair, and I know she’s right on the edge.

That she trusts me to take her there.

It’s a gift, and I still can’t believe she’s offering it to me. Here. Now. In my bed.

I suck her clit between my lips, licking and teasing, stroking her until she shatters, screaming my name.

Slowly, reverently, I kiss her thighs, her belly, those beautiful breasts, working my way back to her mouth. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes dark with desire.

“More,” she whispers, arching against my cock. Her heat is a siren call I’m powerless to resist. I grab a condom from the nightstand drawer, rolling it on as I tease her entrance.


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