The Frat Boy (Nashville Neighborhood #4) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: College, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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My pulse rushed at breakneck speed while the tip of his tongue massaged my swollen clit. The moan it wrung from me—I didn’t know I was capable of making such an erotic sound.

I needed to slow him down.

It was embarrassing how quickly he’d turned me on and primed my body for an explosion. My hands dove into his hair, urging him to shift position. He’d probably think I was helping, trying to guide him to just the right spot to send me over the edge, when I was secretly doing the opposite.

I was fine with it feeling good, as long as it didn’t feel too good.

Did he know what I was up to? No matter how firm I was with my grip on his hair, he resisted. His mouth nuzzled in, his lips closed around my clit, and he sucked.

“Shit,” I groaned, both with pleasure and frustration.

Besides fighting him, I had to fight my body too. I bucked, and my hips canted, trying to make it easier for him. He dragged his hands over my skin like he couldn’t get enough of touching me. Up and down they moved, stroking over my legs, my stomach, my breasts.

I was coming unhinged.

Losing ground to him every second. We’d been competitors once before, and I couldn’t tolerate being defeated a second time.

So, I jerked his head back away from me, and used the most forceful voice I possessed. “I want to suck your cock.”

The strange thing was it wasn’t a lie. There was power in having him in my mouth, under my control. I was eager to see if I could make him moan like he’d done to me.

His expression hung with surprise. My filthy statement caught him off guard, and I needed to capitalize on that. I launched up off the bed, urging him to stand along with me, and although pleasure was still ricocheting through my body, my legs were solid enough that I barely swayed once I was upright.

Colin rose to his feet and didn’t stop me when my hands hurried to the fly of his jeans, but he also seemed pissed. He’d wanted to make me orgasm, and I’d disrupted his plan.

But he was adaptable. As I struggled to get his pants undone, he stepped forward, forcing me to move backward. He moved so quickly that when my back hit the wall, the end table beside us jolted.

If I wasn’t so distracted, maybe I would have been impressed at how well he’d maneuvered us to this spot. The side table was next to us, the condom perfectly in reach. But I was too focused on getting his zipper down, and then nudging both his underwear and his jeans down over his notched hips.

“Turn. Back against the wall, Colin,” Scott said.

I heard the tight breath he took. The frat boy didn’t love taking orders from someone else, but he complied. He spun us in place, and as I shoved at his pants, Colin’s back thudded against the wall.

I’d hoped his jeans would sag down his legs, but they were hung on his erection. I bent a knee and jerked his pants down, setting his dick free.

“Nice.” I could hear the smile in Nina’s voice.

I stilled, blinking at his nakedness. Then my glare shot up to him.

“Oh, fuck you,” I groaned.

SEVEN

Madison

Life was unfair, so of course Colin had a big dick. I should have expected it since he was auditioning for porn, but it pissed me off anyway. Wasn’t he blessed enough with good looks and a trust fund?

You don’t know if he comes from money.

But I assumed he did, since all the other Sigs acted like privileged little rich boys. Some I knew for a fact were wealthy. Riley definitely was. The fieldhouse on campus was branded with his family’s name. And, hell, Jack’s family owned not one, but two vacation homes.

When I cursed at Colin, an enormous smirk tilted on his lips and his eyes flooded with pride.

“That’s all for you, baby,” he teased, overly dramatic.

I wanted to wipe the smirk off his lips, so I wrapped my fingers around his dick and squeezed—hard. The playfulness drained from his face, and he visibly went through a range of emotions in a single breath. Pleasure at my touch. Confusion about the pressure. Then alarm that my grip was too tight.

I’d only done it as a warning, not to cause pain, and visible relief washed across his face as I relaxed my grip. His expression shifted once again to one of need as I slid my fist down and back up the length of him in one long, painstakingly slow stroke. It was nice the way his chest lifted with a heavy breath, and I liked how he stared down at me with a plea edging his eyes. But I wasn’t sure what he was asking for.


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