The Proposal Read Online Adriana Locke

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
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My breathing picks up, coming in and out in rapid succession. Anticipation is killing me, right along with the pulsing of my clit.

I need relief. I need it now. But I’m too powerful right now to give in. And he definitely deserves to be teased.

I lean back, holding myself up with one hand. My nipples point at the ceiling. They’re so tight they hurt.

“There’s not a scenario in which I see myself asking you not to put your face in my pussy,” I say, inserting a finger inside me.

I gasp, holding my breath as he reaches me. He pumps himself, his eyes on me, squeezing the liquid at the tip. In one quick swipe, he cleans the head with his thumb.

My heart pounds as I watch him lift his hand to my mouth.

“I get a taste before you?” I grin, sitting up and wrapping my hand around his wrist. “So generous, Mr. Brewer.”

He starts to speak but stops as I suck his thumb into my mouth. His cum is salty and warm and only makes me want more.

I swirl my tongue around it, looking him in the eye, before I release it. He drags the pad across my teeth and over my bottom lip. It sends a chill down my spine.

“You are dirtier than I expected,” he says.

“Are you disappointed?”

He laughs. “Hardly.” He pulls a chair over and sits at eye level with my pussy. “You are just full of surprises. That’s all.”

“And, sadly, not full of your cum.”

His brows shoot to the ceiling as I lean back again and shove two fingers inside me.

“You have no idea how much you turn me on,” he says, stroking himself. “I’m watching you slide in and out of that tight hole, knowing you’re imagining it’s my cock instead.”

“Do you want to guess how many times I’ve gotten myself off while imagining it was you?”

He groans. “Hopefully, as many times as I’ve jacked myself off in the shower and pretended it was you wrapped around my cock.”

My fingers slide in and out, brushing against my clit just how I like it.

“There’s not one thing I don’t love about you, Blakely.” His voice is gruff. “The way you torment me. The sound of your laugh.” He strokes himself faster, mimicking the speed I’m using on myself. “The roundness of your hips and the heaviness of your tits. I love the way they hang like they’re waiting to be sucked.”

My head falls back as my back arches. Even though it’s not him touching me, his words are a match to my libido.

“Are you going to come?” he asks. “Are you going to get yourself off in front of me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I’m dying to watch you fall apart, beautiful.”

“You’re lucky.” I moan. “I’m about two seconds from it.”

The chair squeaks across the floor as he snatches my wrist. I jerk upright as he pulls my hand from between my legs. His eyes sparkle.

“Renn,” I say, panting. My legs are stuck to the table. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I changed my mind.”

“I’m going to come with or without you.”

He shrugs, a smirk pressed against his lips, and walks out onto the patio.

He lost his clothes at some point, and I’m sad I missed that. But as I follow him outside into the evening air, I take in his round ass, thick legs, and a back muscled to perfection.

The sun sets low on the horizon. Sounds of laughter on the beach float up on the warm breeze.

Renn sits on the loveseat and rests his arms along the edge. Naked Renn sitting outside, naked, with his cock straight up in the air, is a sight to behold. If I wasn’t borderline pissed at him.

“Stop playing with me,” I say, my body on fire.

“You started this. You took your clothes off and started finger fucking yourself.”

“Because you wouldn’t.”

He leans forward. “Because you didn’t ask.”

I’m pretty sure I did. I think. Hell if I know because my head is a pit of chaos that can only think about getting fucked.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Ask me for it,” he says.

I’m weak, and he knows it. “I want you to fuck me.”

“How bad?”

“So bad that I can’t think straight, and I know I’m going to be pissed that I gave in and asked for it.”

His laughter is low and throaty. “Well, then, do I have your consent?”

“Yes, motherfucker. You have my consent.”

This entertains him too much, but I can’t do anything about it. I want him. I need that cock.

He stands. “How do you want it?”

“I don’t care.”

“Not good enough.”

I growl. “I hate you.”

“Good. Hate fucking is usually better, anyway.”

I grit my teeth. “Fine. I want you to take me inside, put me on the table, and throw my legs over your shoulders. I want to be hobbling tomorrow. Got it?”


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