The Close-Up (Hollywood Renaissance #1.5) Read Online Kennedy Ryan

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Novella, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Hollywood Renaissance Series by Kennedy Ryan
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
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“Okay, baby.” His deep voice comes after several agonizing seconds. “Reach between your legs and hold yourself open for me.”

I gulp, blinking furiously at the thought of what’s about to happen. It’s not the first time he’s used a vibrator on me, and it’s always intense in a way I never imagined it would be. I obey, raising my knees, spreading them, pulling myself open so cool air kisses the throbbing bud of nerves at the center of my body. Seconds tick by with nothing happening, and when I flick my glance to him, he’s staring between my legs and biting his bottom lip.

He knows what it does to me when he looks at me like that. My bare toes curl into the bed.

“My pretty pussy,” he rumbles. “Are you ready?”

I nod jerkily, beyond ready. Nerve-endings-stretched-thin ready.

The buzzing begins, and my inner muscles clench. My breath stutters as I wait for that first shock across my sensitive flesh. When it comes, when the mouth of the vibrator tugs on my clit, I jerk. My head snaps back, and one of my knees drops.

“No,” he commands, pushing me knee back into place. “Up for me, baby. Should I go to the next setting?”

As much as I know it will torture me, I nod frantically, lost for words because it will also deliver unbearable pleasure. The buzzing gets louder as he adjusts the vibe, increasing the intensity. This time when it touches me, my knees spread wide open, yielding to the command of the instrument of torture. My hips buck. My neck arches, my mouth opens on a tearless sob. My fingers tremble around the lips I’m holding open, and I’m not sure how much longer I can do it when he adds a finger.

“Oh, god!” I scream. “Naz, no.”

“Yes.” His voice is hard. His breathing labored. I manage to open my eyes and find his—dark and filled with storm clouds. His mouth is slack with pleasure as he watches me. The vibrator on my clit. His finger, now another, now another filling me up and stroking in and out with increasing speed. I writhe on the bed, guttural sounds wrenched from my throat until it’s raw. The tight knot building in my belly loosens, dispatching waves of pleasure to every inch of my body. My arms fall limply to my sides. Knees dropped open, my legs collapse as the orgasm possesses me. I gush, soaking my thighs and the sheet beneath me. I’m lost in a haze. The pleasure is a note sustained, drawn out as his fingers continue delving inside me, and even after the buzzing stops and he sets the vibrator aside, he rubs my clit with his thumb, spreading the wetness.

“You are so ready for me.” His voice is gruff, his arms bracketing my head on the pillow. He notches his hips between my thighs.

“Yes.” I rouse my limp arms and clutch his ass with both hands. “I need you inside.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get me inside. In that tight little ass.”

A thrill, a shudder runs through me, and my asshole clenches in anticipation. Naz’s dick is so big, anal was uncomfortable at first. I’ve done it before with relative ease.

But him?

It took a minute to adjust.

I don’t have much time to process the promise of him taking me like that, there before his mouth is on my breasts.

“Naz, fuck me,” I pant. “I’m ready.”

“Obviously.” He reaches between my legs, where the insides of my thighs and the duvet are soaked. “This is for me. I love your breasts.”

His lips close around one nipple while he tugs at the other. My breath ratchets up, and my heartbeat, barely slowed, starts racing again.

“I’mma get to your ass.” He pants, lifting me and plunging inside. “But just a little pussy first.”

“Yes!” I slide my hands over his shoulders, around his neck, and pull him down to me. His mouth latches on to mine, our tongues sparring as the tempo of our bodies increases. I lock my ankles at the base of his spine, anchoring him to me. I’m on the verge of another orgasm when he pulls out.

“Dammit, Naz,” I cry, my hips still moving in subtle, short jerks, seeking him.

He smiles above me, the masculine beauty of his face so arresting for a moment, I almost forget the way my inner muscles are clenching around air.

“I got you.” He rains kisses over my cheeks and nose, soft feathering kisses punctuated by a bite at my throat. He loves to mark me, and I love carrying the little bruising reminders of our intimacy.

“Shit.” He laughs. “I don’t want Cliff seeing hickeys all over you. Don’t want him to suspect I’m fucking his sister.”

We both laugh at the preposterous joke. We’ve been living together for months and there’s no missing how ravenous we are for each other.


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