The Player (Chicago Bratva #8) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
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Flynn grabs my hand and tugs me back to the street in the direction of the van, running a little, like hopping in his bed is an emergency.

And it is.

Flynn Taylor is going to reinvent me tonight. I’m absolutely sure of it.

CHAPTER 7

Flynn

I should go slowly.

I should be careful. Watch for signs of discomfort.

I know all these things, but they go out the window.

All I care about is getting Nadia out of her goddamn clothes and into my bed. I strip her on the way from my front door to the bedroom, devouring her mouth as I walk her backward. She strips me back, yanking up my shirt, and unbuckling my belt.

I manage to turn on a lamp in my bedroom. I cleaned up before our date, so the place is presentable.

Her kisses are demanding and greedy–what I wanted from her back at Rue’s.

It was weird how reverse-jealous I got when she wasn’t jealous over me. I’m so used to girls freaking over their competition. Getting territorial and staking their claim. I think it hurt my manly pride when Nadia didn’t stake a claim.

Of course, she wouldn’t. We are friends with benefits.

But I was surprised how badly I wanted her to. How offended I was by the notion that she wanted to share me.

I don’t want to share her.

I seriously think I’d throat punch any guy who got near her, including Maykl, the huge bratva door guy she came to my show with that one time.

I push her up against the wall in my room and flick open the front clasp on her black bra. “I’ve been fucking my fist thinking about these tits for a week now,” I groan when they spring free. “These are peaches,” I assert.

Mental note–I need to buy her peaches so she knows what the hell I’m talking about.

I cup her breast and thumb over her nipple while my other hand tangles in her hair, holding her head still for more hot kisses. I love her butterscotch scent, the scratch of her fingernails on the back of my neck.

I can’t think of the last time I’ve been this impassioned for a woman. I’ve had a lot of drunk sex that feels sort of desperate, but this is different. This is drunk-on-pheromones passion. I need more–no, all–of Nadia, or I will die.

She grinds down on my knee between her legs.

I shove a hand into her panties, sucking on the place behind her jaw as I gently part her flesh. She’s wet and slick, and she jolts when I touch her clit.

I drop to my knees, yanking her pants and panties off as I go. Without waiting, as if my life depended on making this girl come in the next twenty seconds, I lift one of her knees and suck a spot on her inner thigh then fill my mouth with her juicy pussy. There’s no finesse. No delicate tracing with my tongue. I suck, lick and nip every inch of her feminine folds. I penetrate her with my tongue, penetrate her with two fingers. With her leg hooked over my shoulder, I give her every ounce of passion I know, all designed to make her feel good.

“Flynn…Flynn.” She yanks off my knit cap and tears at my hair, pressing my face against her for more.

I lash her with my tongue as I locate her g-spot with my two fingers, finding the place where the tissue stiffens and raises under my fingers. I pump in and out, hitting it every time, while I lap and flick and suck at her clit.

She clenches around my fingers with a shriek.

Without giving her time to recover, I rise up and pick her up to straddle my waist, carrying her to the bed.

“I want you to come all over my dick this time. Are you going to do that for me?” I ask, toeing off my shoes and shoving my pants off.

“Da. Yes. I will,” she promises, her hands traveling over my shoulders and down my biceps.

Wanting her to feel in control, I roll the condom over my dick as I lie down. “Climb on, Peaches.”

Nadia

I’m doing this. I’m totally in the moment. Totally with Flynn, who is carrying me away with his unbridled passion.

Cigar guy isn’t here in the room. He’s not between us.

I straddle Flynn’s waist and position my entrance over his cock. He holds the base steady for me as I rise up and slowly lower over him. I love that he put me in charge. I get to control this. I’m on top. I have space. I can breathe. I can pace things the way I need them to be paced.

I definitely feel safe.

More than that–I feel alive. Lit up. Tingling with excitement.

Flynn’s groan echoes off the walls when I take him inside me. “You’re killing me, Peaches. You feel so good.”


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