Secretly Yours (A Vine Mess #1) Read Online Tessa Bailey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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He must have finished applying the condom—thank God, thank God—because he gripped her jaw and tilted her face up to meet his scrutiny. “How long have you been wanting to fuck me with this pretty mouth?”

“A long time,” she admitted haltingly, barely recognizing her own voice.

She could see he wanted to question that too-revealing piece of truth further—and maybe he would later—but right now, the urgency was so great. The fire on high. “As long as we’re working fantasies out of our system, how about you turn around and bury those knees in the dirt?”

Lord. Oh Lord. “Yes.”

As soon as the word slipped out of her mouth, the next move was taken out of her hands. Julian turned her around and used his big body to press her forward. “Slide them around,” he panted in her ear. “Get them filthy.”

Hallie’s eyes nearly crossed, her heart beating so fast and furious, she could feel it in her throat. Never in her life had she felt as sexy as she did while twisting her knees down into the garden soil, Julian’s mouth raking up and down her neck, encouraging her with groans, his hands working the dress up her thighs.

“Are you ready to show me this body, Hallie?” His voice was a scrape of flint. “All of it?”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak above a wheeze, she nodded vigorously.

“No, I need the words.” He palmed her backside through the dress, his hand dragging up her spine to tangle in her hair, drawing her head back in a way that made her feel utterly and welcomingly possessed. “I need you to say, Julian, get me naked. Look at every hot inch of me.”

The ground spun in front of her face, her inner thigh muscles turning to the consistency of microwaved butter, the slow slicking of liquid heat making it uncomfortable to be wearing underwear at all. Just say it. Say it. “Julian, get me naked. Look at every hot inch of me.”

“That’s my girl,” he praised, jerking the panties down to her knees, then off. Tossed away. Bent forward on hands and knees, she battled to breathe through the rough lowering of her dress zipper, the soft material being stripped down her body, over her right arm, then left, the entire thing sent in the direction of her panties. Oh God. Oh God. Nothing but a bra left. And did it even matter at this point? She was bent over, knees covered in dirt, wearing nothing but moonlight, and nothing, not a single thing, was left to his imagination. “Jesus, Hallie.” In one deft movement, he shucked her bra and dropped his clothed chest down onto her bare back, his hands sliding up her rib cage to take firm hold of her breasts. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you? I’m stalling right now. I’m stalling, because I know as soon as I put it in, I’m going to come, you’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t deal with how tight you are on top of everything else. God, this ass.” The last part was said through his teeth, followed by a shaky exhale in her ear. “You’re going to get so comfortable with me looking and touching and tasting every part of your naked body that you’ll learn to bend over with your butt in the air, just like this, and ask me to eat it whole.”

With that, he thrust into her from behind, and she screamed behind her teeth at the perfection of it. How he filled and stretched her, how the blast of sensation chased away the lingering soreness from her first time. And then there was nothing save the way he groaned in her ear, thrusting into her slowly, slowly at first, then with more and more force, the expensive material of his shirt rasping up and down her back.

“You like that?”

“Yes.”

He collected her hips in a bruising grip, straightened in his kneeling position, and seemed to indulge himself for several sweaty moments, pounding into her quickly, hard enough that the heels of her hands slid forward in the grass, her knees burrowing deeper into the earth. She could feel the willpower it took for him to slow down. The way he bit off a frustrated sound and dug his fingertips into her waist, easing his thrusts into deep grinds that made lights twinkle in front of her eyes, her intimate muscles seizing around him like an omen. Welcoming him, wetter each time, a throb escalating in the deep recesses of her womanhood.

His tongue licked up her spine, his fingers dropping down between her legs, pressing and rubbing right where she needed it. And she wanted to tell him faster, faster, but her vocal cords seemed to have been rendered useless, so she reached for his hand instead and moved it in the right rhythm. He hummed into his next lick of her back and kept the pace she’d asked for, and his grateful acceptance of her expressed needs turned her on more than anything. So much that she couldn’t stem the compulsion to reward him with pulsing constrictions of her inner walls, one after the other, until he gave a strangled yell and drove deeper, faster, with rough smacks of his lap against her backside.


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