The Secret (Winslow Brothers #3) Read Online Max Monroe

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Romance, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: Winslow Brothers Series by Max Monroe
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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But by the time the bed is in my sights, Ty is right behind me and swooping me into his arms.

“Ah!” I squeal and he laughs, and before I know it, he’s carrying me into the massive bathroom.

In an instant, I go from up in the air, secured against Ty’s chest, to my favorite black flats being planted on the tile of the shower floor.

“What are you doing?!” I screech, and a melody of laughs leaves my lungs.

He just smirks, keeping eye contact with me the entire time, and reaches out to turn on the rain shower. Water pours from above our heads, and it is ice-flipping-cold.

“That’s so cold!” I exclaim, and he just laughs, stepping forward to pull me tight against his body.

“Don’t worry, doll, it’ll heat up soon.” His words are laced with silent and sexy promises that I don’t have time to calculate because he presses his lips to mine. He takes my mouth in a hot, seductive kiss, dancing our lips and mingling our tongues, and his fingers thread through the strands of my now-wet hair at the base of my neck.

Holy hell, I needed this.

He growls as he deepens the kiss and reaches out to place his big hands on my ass. I’m back in the air again, my legs wrapped around his waist, and I can feel the hardness of his cock through our wet clothes, pressed directly against the apex of my thighs.

“Too many clothes,” I whimper. “We have too many clothes.”

He shows his agreement by setting me back on my feet and making quick work of our attire, each item hitting the tile floor with a wet plop.

Steam billows in the shower, the water is deliciously warm now, and Ty stands before me, completely bare. Droplets skate down the firm muscles of his chest and make their way over his rippled stomach and prominent V, until they showcase the way his hard cock juts out from his body.

He is the epitome of a perfect male specimen, and I am aroused to the point of insanity.

I want his mouth on me.

His hands on me.

His cock inside me.

I want him everywhere and all at once. It is an all-consuming feeling, and it’s what spurs my body to crash into his.

“Fuck,” he growls again, and his hands are all over me. His mouth is locked with mine again, teasing and feasting and sucking.

I moan and whimper, and I brace myself with my arms wrapped around his neck. And then I lift my legs again, wrapping them around his waist and opening my hips so that his cock is pressed right at my entrance.

It’s the one place I need him the most. I’m downright desperate for it.

“Please,” I whisper, and I should probably be embarrassed by how desperate I sound.

But fuck, I need this more than I need my next breath.

When he still hesitates, I take things into my own hands. I ease myself down onto him, his cock sliding past my entrance and just barely filling me.

But it’s not enough. Not even close.

“Rachel,” he breathes out my name again, but it’s not out of questioning or concern. It’s the same desperation that I’m feeling. That my voice and eyes have been showing. “I need you.”

“I need you too.”

On a groan, he grips my ass and pushes his cock inside me. He’s deep, so deep, and tears prick my eyes. But it’s not from intensity. It’s from something else. Something intangible that I can understand. Something that feels a lot like relief. And something that feels like you’re falling.

“One week was too long,” he says, his mouth at my neck now, and his lips are kissing a path toward my ear. “I swear, I could spend the rest of my life inside you, and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Water blurs my vision, but I don’t think it’s from the shower.

“How do you always feel so good?” he questions and starts a rhythm that makes my breasts bounce against his chest. “Always so fucking good.”

All I can do is bury my face in his shoulder, my hands still clutched around his neck, and synchronize my hips with his. And each time he fills me all the way up, incoherent moans spill from my lips.

How on earth does this feel so good?

Sex with Ty feels like a fever dream. Like I’m hallucinating. Like there’s too much pleasure that my mind can’t fully wrap itself around the reality.

And he doesn’t stop.

He keeps sliding his cock in and out of me.

Keeps kissing me and touching me.

Keeps pushing me toward the edge.

“That’s it,” he whispers, and his voice is hoarse with pleasure. “Come on my cock, Rachel. Let me feel that sweet pussy of yours squeeze me tight.”

I am a genie, and his words are my command. I come hard, so hard that every inch of my body, my legs, my belly, my arms, my breasts, shake in response.


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