Wrecking Ball Read Online P. Dangelico (Hard to Love #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Hard to Love Series by P. Dangelico
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
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I do. I trust him as implicitly as I do my parents and Amber. “Yes.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since Kim and I broke up. We take blood every couple of months to check for PEDs. I’m clean and I know you are.” Oh, yeah––the “contagious disease” test. “I don’t want anything between us. But I’ll grab a condom if you want me to.”

“I don’t want anything between us, either.” The smile that comes over him is spectacular. He takes my bra off gingerly, as if he’s savoring every minute. My panties come next. I’m sprawled out naked on the stairs. His eyes are on me wide and unblinking. “You’re so goddam beautiful. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Standing, he pushes his pants down and I suck in a breath. My God…was there ever a more perfect figure of man than this. Those traps. Lord have mercy. They make my mouth water every time they make an appearance. His dick is so thick and hard it practically reaches his belly button. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I’m…mesmerized.

“If you stare at it any longer, Honey, I’m going to go off before the fun begins.” My eyes meet his and he smiles a little knowing smile that makes all sorts of deliciously filthy promises. Then he picks me up off the stairs. “Not on the stairs…maybe later, though,” he says with a sexy smirk.

I kiss him over and over while he carries me into the den.

“Not on the new couch!” I screech. “I’d like to see you explain the mess to Mercedes.”

Without pausing, he keeps going up the stairs, headed to his bedroom. Planting me on his bed, he makes a place for himself between my thighs. Everywhere our skin touches, it’s like an electric charge runs through me. The precum leaking from his erection slips over and in between my body. I scream when he hits my clit over and over again. There’s no time, or need for a slow seduction. The foreplay has been going on for weeks. I can’t take anymore. That’s why I hook my leg around his waist and on the next rock of his hips he slides right into me. I can hardly breathe I’m so full.

“Jezuz Christ,” he groans. “Don’t move, or I’ll come. You’re so tight, Honey. Don’t move.”

I need him to move, or I will die. One squeeze of my kegels and he shouts out his release, his face crumbling as if he just took a hit of the best drug ever created. His forehead falls onto the mattress next to me as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm. I feel his soft lips on my neck, his hands weave into my hair. He licks my earlobe and nibbles it.

Little by little, I can feel him growing harder inside of me and I slowly. Lose. My. Mind. His hips starts rocking. His movements determined, in control. There’s no hesitation in the way Cal makes love. He knows exactly what he wants and how to go about getting it. His thrusts come harder now. His hand, heavy and warm on my breast, brushes back and forth on my nipple. I’m close, so bloody close. I grab his ass and dig my fingers into the dents of his cheeks. He grunts and thrusts faster.

He angles his hips a fraction and his hair rubs me in just the right spot. One more stroke and I go off like it’s the Fourth of frigging July all over again, except this time the fireworks are happening inside my body. The climax keeps going and going in pulsing waves that never seem to end. Cal keeps thrusting, milking my orgasm for every drop, not wasting even a bit of it. He pinches my nipple hard and it launches me into another one. He’s my anchor and I cling to him because I am lost in a sea of bliss. So lost I may never be found again.

After the bed gets destroyed, he decides he needs to take me from behind on the stairs. The rug burns on my knees will last for weeks. I returned the favor my riding him hard and slow on the marble of the kitchen island. I think he may have bruised a vertebra. By ten, after a fortifying meal of pizza, we debate for a second whether we should both ice up and decide to go back to bed instead.

My head rests on his chest while he plays with my hair. The sense of satisfaction I’m feeling right now is in a class by itself. I could stay like this forever and not want for anything else.

“Can I ask you something?” I say looking up at him.

“You know you can.”

“What’s up with the cow comment?” I have been dyyyyiiing to ask this for months. I have got to know. His lips curl between his teeth. Then he blows out a deep breath. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. We’re way past that, don’t you think?” I chuckle, glancing down at our entwined bodies, sweaty and sticky from a marathon of fucking, ‘scuse me, making love.


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