Stranded with a Dirty-Talking Shifter Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Novella, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
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Up close, it’s even larger. It’s even more captivating.

It’s thick and tall and magnificent with sticky wet pre-cum leaking down its swollen head.

I lick my lips as I admire it, my mouth watering for a taste.

How do I even start? It’s so fucking big, I don’t think it can fit between my lips.

“Put your tongue on it,” he growls. “Lick it like a popsicle.”

He’s looking down at me with such intense lust in his eyes. He’s been waiting years to see this very sight—his mate with her hand wrapped around his hard cock.

“I heard that audiobook,” he says in a deep raspy voice. “I know you have a dirty mouth. Show me how you’re my little cum slut.”

I posture up on my knees as determination takes over.

I can do this.

I’ve written this dozens of times. How different can it be in real life?

I grip his thick shaft, open my mouth wide, and shove his big head inside.

Immediately, my eyes water and my gag reflex goes off.

I pull him out, coughing as tears fill my eyes.

Very different. Real life is very different from writing it.

He grins as he watches me.

“You can do better than that,” he says with a dark smile. “You’re my dirty little whore, remember? Take that cock deep into your slutty mouth.”

I catch my breath and strengthen my determination. I want to do this. I want to make him moan.

But more than anything, I want to be his cum slut. I want to be his whore.

I want to be everything for this dark sexy man.

With a firm grip on the base of his cock, I take him back into my mouth, slower this time. My pussy aches whenever I hear his sexy groans above me. I must be doing something right…

I clench my lips around his shaft and take as much of him into my mouth as I can, moving my head up and down his length.

When my jaw gets tired, I pull him out and jerk him off while I lick his balls.

He never takes his heated eyes off me. That sexy look drives me wild.

I take him back into my mouth and plunge his cock in deeper.

“Are you my dirty little cum slut?” he asks as he grabs a fistful of my hair. I feel his strength and gasp out a breath.

“Yes,” I moan.

“Are you going to swallow my hot cum?”

“Yes.”

I want it so badly. I want to taste it.

“Then open your mouth.”

He grabs his cock from me and starts stroking it hard.

My eyes are locked on it, even when he tugs my hair to pull my head back.

His strokes are so long. They slide up and down the towering length of his shaft. The entire time, I’m taking mental notes to see how he likes to be touched.

“Open,” he growls. “Here it comes, naughty girl.”

“Oh shit,” I moan when I see his chest flex and his stomach clench. He’s about to cum.

His hand moves faster. So fast, it’s a blur.

He grits his teeth, presses the head of his cock to my bottom lip, and releases with a savage roar.

Hot cum surges into my mouth and onto my lips, stream after stream while his cock jolts in his clenched hand.

I swallow half of it down and the rest that landed on my face washes away with the warm rain.

My eyes are half closed, but I’m looking up at his wet glistening body, wondering how it’s possible that I ended up being mated to someone like him.

He’s better than anything I could have ever come up with.

This man beats Antoine Rickard, Tyler LaRue, Benson St. James, and Weston Langley. He’s infinitely better than even my most dominant characters.

Because he’s real.

He’s here.

And he’s mine.

five

. . .

Oliver

The rain is finally easing as we head back to my place.

My mate wanted to walk beside me, but she kept getting stuck in the mud. After offering a dozen times, she finally relented and let me carry her on my back.

I’m wearing her like a backpack. Her legs are wrapped around me—her bare pussy pressing against my lower back—and her arms are resting on my shoulders.

I’m holding her thighs and it’s a struggle not to stop every ten feet to have my way with her.

The thunder has moved into the distance, but I can still hear it even though Layla probably can’t. My bear isn’t reacting at all.

It’s the strangest thing.

Once we saw our mate, it was over.

Thunder and lighting were popping off right over our head, and nothing. No reaction. No fear. Just awe at the sight of Layla standing there in the rain.

It’s like nothing else mattered but her.

I guess that’s what my grizzly needed to finally calm down. He needed his mate.

The image of her standing there, staring at me for the first time pops into my head and I shiver all over.


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