Playboy Prince Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 98021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
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I don't like it. I don't like imagining some other woman touching him. But I've had meaningless sex before.

It's meaningless.

This.

A girl from school. A girl he actually liked.

I hate it.

"She felt out of place at events," he says. "She didn't want to show up as my date. I should have listened. Instead, I sent her to Bree for new attire. She liked the lingerie, the cocktail dresses even. We could go out to nice places, alone, stay away from assholes. When other people were there… She tried. But she hated the bullshit. And she hated me for asking her to do it."

"She ended things?"

"It was more like they melted down, but yeah."

"And you've reflected enough to see your mistake."

"Am I not capable of growth?"

"I don't know. What did it teach you?"

His eyes flit to my cup. "I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to drink that, not hold it."

Right. I take a small sip. Bergamot. Tea. Milk. Honey. "This is good."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Thanks, Liam."

"I'm capable of fixing tea too."

"Tea and cocktails."

"What was that about cock?" He smiles. This time, he nails it. That dazzling I'm Liam Pierce and I'm ridiculous smile.

It lights up the entire room.

Makes my stomach flutter.

Raises my pulse.

He's too handsome.

Why is he so handsome?

It's not fair.

"What did you learn?" What was that about cock? I'd like to sit on yours. Now. Thanks. "From your fling?"

"Mandy."

"What did you learn from your fling with Mandy?"

"To be clear about what I want. And what someone else wants. She was always trying to tell me she didn't want to be part of this world. But I thought it was humility. Or some shit like that. I thought she'd be disappointed if I took her to the place she liked in Chinatown instead of the expensive restaurant in Midtown."

"But she was a down-to-earth girl who liked down to Earth things?"

"And authentic Cantonese food."

"And you thought she wanted nice things. You thought that was part of the Liam Pierce package."

"Fuck. Never thought about it that way, but yeah, I guess I did."

"Other women?"

"People know who I am. Or they learn fast."

"And they do want the Liam Pierce package?"

"They want the package, yeah—"

"You're nervous again," I say.

His voice softens. "For a while, I did the whole expensive lingerie and fine dining thing. Then I stopped the longer arrangements."

"Do you like it better that way?"

"No." He must notice my surprise, because he explains right away. "I'd rather fuck someone for a while. I get to know them, what they like, how to make them come."

He prefers longer arrangements?

"Women, even the more sexually aggressive ones… they don't trust me right away. I'm not as good the first fuck as I am the tenth."

"It's always awkward the first time."

"Yeah. Sometimes the novelty overcomes it. Or the thrill of a one-night thing. But there isn't that same…"

"Intimacy?"

"Yeah. Intimacy. Trust."

Liam wants intimacy and trust?

"But I learned the hard way… Most women, they don't do things halfway. That intimacy, the trust, it's not just sexual. It becomes more. They want more."

"They fall for you?"

"Maybe not all the way, but enough they want a relationship."

"You don't?"

"There were a few women I really liked, who I wanted to see more often. I thought about trying the boyfriend thing. It was tempting."

My stomach churns.

"But I was never willing to give up my freedom. I've known that since I was fifteen." His eyes meet mine. "You've been in a relationship."

"Only the one serious one."

"You loved him?"

"I thought I did."

"You enjoyed his company?"

"For a long time."

"The sex was good?"

"It was okay," I admit.

"No? Small dick?"

"Why do men think everything is about dick size?"

"I'm not hearing no."

"His dick was fine."

"Well, if it was fine…"

"It wasn't about his dick." My cheeks flush. I take another sip. Try to think of a response. Think of the citrus scent of his soap instead.

Oranges.

Why does he smell like oranges? Oranges and pine, yes, but oranges.

Why am I so desperate to taste his skin?

"What was it about?" he asks.

"He wasn't a very creative guy. And he was… inhibited. But it wasn't just him. I was too."

"You needed someone like me."

I need you, specifically. Lose the towel. Pin me to the wall. Let's go right now.

"Someone shameless."

"Maybe."

He turns all the way around. So his front is to me. "I'm surprised."

"Huh?" My eyes refuse my command. They trace a line down his body. The broad shoulders. The rose tattoo on his chest. The Latin quote on his ribs. Something for his brother. Those v-lines.

The cerulean towel begging for my hands.

Begging for release.

"You don't seem inhibited," he says.

"I never thought I was. But the first time I told him what I liked, he made me feel awkward. And I just… I didn't try again."

"Was it that freaky?"

"No."

He raises a brow really.

My eyes return to his hipbones. "You're not getting it out of me sober."


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