The White Rabbit (Wonderland #0.5) Read Online Alta Hensley

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wonderland Series by Alta Hensley
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Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 9293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 46(@200wpm)___ 37(@250wpm)___ 31(@300wpm)
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“But first,” I say, now that I’m completely naked. “I want those lips wrapped around my dick. I hate conducting business deals when I’m hungry. It’s time you feed my appetite.”

She’s a wise woman because she doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. She’s going to seal this deal with the devil before I change my mind. What she doesn’t know is that I had no intention of ever throwing her out to the wolves. I may be an asshole, but I’m not a monster.

Well… I may be a monster, but I’m not a killer.

Well… there were those men who—

Okay… so I’m the bad guy in the story, but I sure as hell am not going to let the poor girl die the minute I fuck her. Even I have limits.

She stands from the couch, seductively walks toward me, her hips swaying side to side in glittering silver, and takes hold of my hand. Guiding me over to the edge of the cushions, she pushes me down to sit and kneels between my legs. My dick is at attention as I lean back and place my hands behind my head with my own Cheshire grin.

“God, you are such an asshole,” she murmurs with an eye-roll right before she licks the entire length of my shaft.

“Yessss,” I hiss as I ready myself for what I can already tell will be the best blow job of my life. “Watch the teeth,” I warn. “I bite back harder.”

She takes hold of my cock with one fist, places her lips on the tip of my head, and then lowers her mouth all the way down. Like the good girl she is, she completely deep-throats me on the first pass and swallows my entire length. I enjoy the fact that I don’t have to coax her, instruct her, or threaten to punish her if she doesn’t do a good job.

My Lyriope is eager to please me.

She sucks up and down my cock faster and faster. She pushes me in deeper and deeper, causing her to occasionally gag which only brings my orgasm closer to the surface. Tears fill her eyes, and the perfect mascara she’s wearing begins to run in the corners. I fucking love every second of it. I take hold of her head and begin controlling the pace. I like it fast and hard, with saliva dripping from her lips, and she’s willing to give me exactly that.

The beast inside of me growls for more than just a mouth sucking. I yank Lyriope up off her knees and have her stand before me. Taking a deep breath, I demand, “As much as you are the belle of the ball in that silver dress. I want to see it piled on the floor by your feet. Take it off.”

Locking her eyes with mine, she reaches behind her back and unzips. She then lowers the straps one by one and slowly pulls the dress from her body. When it drops to her feet, she steps out of it and stands before me completely nude.

“Yesss,” I growl as I notice the tattoo of flowers that runs from the top of her rib cage all the way down her right thigh. “I fucking love a marked woman.”

I take her hand, pull her against me, and kiss her hard. There are so many ways I want to fuck this woman, but right now I’m going to savor every wicked moment I can. I like games, and the thought of toying with her longer makes my cock grow even harder. Fucking her means the games come to an end, and I’m not done playing yet.

Chapter Five

Lyriope

I shouldn’t like this, but I do.

I’m not this type of girl, and yet… maybe I am.

He was correct in saying that I’m innocent. I am a virgin. But I don’t have the luxury to remain that way for long.

I don’t have a choice if I want to live.

But is that the entire truth?

He’s making me…

Or is he?

My mind races with all the no, no, no. But my body builds with the yes, yes, yes.

He’s going to fuck me. His cock is going to spread me wide. It’s going to hurt. I can see that fact simply from his size and thickness. This isn’t the way I pictured losing my virginity. I should run away. I should scream. I should beg for mercy and hope that he stops.

I should.

But I don’t.

Instead, I simply kiss him back with as much passion as he delivers in his claiming of my mouth, until I pull away breathless with the need to regain some sense of control.

The tattoos on every inch of his body mesmerize me. I can’t help but look at each one that I can, wanting so badly to trace my fingertips over them and ask the story behind each one. I see a Cheshire Cat on his abs, The Hare on his tricep. But I don’t see an Alice tattoo.


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