The Bride (The Boss #3) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
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“Please, just do it,” I gasped.

“Everything?” he clarified, rolling his thumb against me.

“Yes, please.” I nodded, and my sweaty hair plastered to the back of my head.

He withdrew his hand and pumped more lube over it, so much that it ran down his arm when it mingled with my own natural lubricant. Slowly, carefully, he slipped his cupped hand into my cunt, his thumb folded against his palm.

The addition of his thumb created a startlingly different shape and size, at least, more so than I had expected. All of the lube made even the widest part of his hand slide in easily, and my breath whooshed out of me on a startled gasp.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern rippling across his brow. “I can stop—”

“No, don’t.” I reached down to feel for his hand, and found only his wrist, the tendons flexed at the entrance of my cunt. “Oh my god.” My voice quavered. “Oh my god, it’s really in there.”

“It is.” He took his free hand and covered my own. “Tell me how deep is too deep.”

He’d done the same thing the first time we’d had sex, when I was totally inexperienced and facing down the biggest cock that had ever been in me. He’d wrapped my fingers around his cock and coached me, telling me to control the depth and find what was right. To this day, he was the largest man I’d been with.

He was also the most considerate man I’d been with.

I held his wrist and slowly pumped his hand inside me, pulling until the widest part of his hand threatened to slip out, then pushed back in a little. “Not all the way. Just like that much, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiled down at me. Can you reach the vibrator?”

My hand groped across the bed for it, and he continued, “I’m going to keep doing exactly what I’m doing now, unless you tell me to change the pace or ask me to go deeper. When you orgasm, that’s when I’ll take my hand out; it’s easier to do it then.”

I pressed the head of the wand against my clit and flicked the switch. It didn’t take long to get right on the edge, but I fought it and pulled the vibrator back to resist. I wanted more of this intense pressure, more of the sucking pull of his hand inside me. I just plain wanted more.

“Faster,” I begged, and he picked up the speed of his thrusting hand, wriggling his fingers as he did so. I put the vibrator on my clit again, and this time, there was no stopping. Every muscle in my body went rigid to the point of pain, and a high, thin scream twisted from my throat. I twisted, too, jerking the duvet down, the fabric audibly shredding beneath my nails. My orgasm went on and on, and but I didn’t let up, shouting mindlessly, whipping my head to the side, biting the arm arched against the bed. My climax was a wild, uncontrollable force that left me helpless in in the eye of its storm. I thought I was going to die. I was certain I’d never been so alive.

Before I could come down, while my cunt still clutched at the impossible hugeness of his hand in me, he gently slid out. My body shook with violent tremors, my calves cramped. My bones and muscles had liquefied from pure pleasure.

He wiped his hand on the duvet—we were going to have to reimburse the hotel for that, anyway—and carefully laid one hand on my hip. “Is that too much?”

“Not at all,” I rasped.

“Do you need water?”

I nodded, though how I moved my neck, I had no clue.

He helped me to sit up and cradled my limp body against his chest as he handed me the glass from before. I gulped it down then collapsed again while he went to get more.

When he returned, I sat up and winced at the soreness between my legs. “Hey, instead of intercourse, could I like, suck you off? I hate to wimp out on your birthday—”

“Good lord, Sophie, I’m not going to ask to fuck you after that. This is the first time you’ve ever been fisted, I understand if you need time off.” He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it from his shoulders, and toed off his shoes. He unbuckled his belt and slipped off his pants, then pulled back the covers beside me and tucked me under.

“Seriously.” I propped myself on my elbow. “I’m not going to be emotionally well if I can’t do at least something for you. I need that…reciprocation. I can’t stand it when you don’t get off.”

“Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “Shall I get myself started?”

I stretched out beside him, luxuriating in the feeling of sweaty skin and overused muscle against soft sheets. I walked my fingers down the narrow line of hair on his stomach. “Mmhm. I love to watch you jerk off.” I snapped the waistband of his boxers. “Get rid of these.”


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