The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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I forget how to breathe.

The very thought of what he’s suggesting turns me to stone.

But he’s got me by the wrist again, leading me when I can’t lead myself. At first, I’m confused when we’re heading for the bar, but soon we’re moving past it.

My feet are so numb. Every step feels like wading through cement.

It’s a minor miracle I don’t trip all over myself, trying to keep up with him.

Is it really happening tonight?

Are we actually sneaking off to some dark corner where I’ll let him whisper all the filthy things he wants before he takes my V-card?

I don’t need to decide.

My body already does by the time we walk behind the small boathouse where Dad parks his yacht.

The second we’re out of sight, Chris pins me against the wall, one snap movement that rattles me.

His mouth attacks mine again, picking up where we never truly ended.

Except now we’re alone with our lust, basking in as much privacy as we’re going to get.

His kisses crash over me like a force of nature, sure and powerful as the dark waves lapping the shore behind us.

“Beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” he whispers as he palms my breast, raking my nipple with his thumb.

I almost see stars.

I almost come on the spot.

“Chris!” I whisper, shaking and not even hiding it.

This is so not how I imagined my first time—not that I’m complaining.

This black dragon devil of the night makes me feel like heaven with every scratch of his stubble against my skin.

His incandescent lips devour me.

His calloused hands roam my skin like a man laying claim.

He holds me down, slides a hand between my legs, and drags his cock against my thigh.

He definitely makes sure I can feel it behind the fabric.

Oh, hell.

I’ve gotten hot and heavy with a few guys before, even if I haven’t gone all the way. But making out has nothing on this, and his delicious friction stabs deep. His massive bulge presses just right, pushing the fabric over my clit.

Help. Me.

My arms hook around his neck, just as his breath boils in my ear again.

Another whimper.

Another animalistic growl, overwhelming my mouth with his energy as his mouth owns mine again.

His tongue flicks in and out every time he catches my lips, so deep and possessive, a naked omen of everything else he promises to do to me tonight.

With every kiss, his hips grow more frenzied, hellbent on burying me in his friction.

We’re crashing together shamelessly, again and again, dry humping like animals in heat.

I’m about to flipping lose it.

I’m so damn close it hurts, my O balanced on knife’s edge, ready to rip right out of me. Plundered by the first man I’ve ever deemed worthy.

Green eyes like jealousy.

Black ink like barbed wire.

Fuchsia pink rising up inside me like the sun.

“Delia, fuck,” he mutters, pressing his forehead to mine. “Don’t hold back for me.”

Of course, he senses how I’m about to go off.

He has to know I’m a shaking, sputtering, sex-starved mess, totally at his mercy.

With his chest heaving, he rears back, pouring his hot eyes into mine with an ice-cold gaze that’s suddenly too serious.

It’s the expression you’d see on a cop, right after he orders a suspect to hit the ground.

Not the kind of face you ever dare to disobey.

“Fucking let that pussy come for me, princess. I want to hear you. I need to hear your fireworks.” His hips punch mine with harder, rougher, meaner strokes through the fabric. “Delia!”

There’s something about how he says my name.

Oh, yeah.

Fireworks.

Rose-red, explosive, brighter than a ripe chili.

My orgasm splits me in two.

I’m coming so hard, one leg thrown over his, desperately holding on with both hands quaking.

I can’t even stop to wonder if I’m hurting him, tearing at his neck with my nails, because the pleasure utterly engulfs me.

My head bangs the ivory-white wall behind me as he drags his cock against me through his jeans, grinding me deeper into ecstasy.

Snarling, he shoves a hand down my waistband, pushing his fingers against my naked mound.

My hips buck wildly against his thick, greedy fingers.

The instant he finds my clit, I’m hurled into a new universe.

My thighs clench hard around his hand. I want his fingers deep inside me, stroking hard, a prelude to his magnificent cock.

I’d shout his name—I’d scream it—but I’m too far gone for more than a breathless smile.

When I’m coming off the high, I push my lips against his shoulder, stifling the syrupy noises exploding up my throat.

“Babe? You okay?” His lovely stubble scratches my skin.

Slowly, I open my eyes.

It’s like being dragged back to reality from a dream.

My knees collapse and now he’s just holding me up, angling me against the wall, sheltering me through the best storm of my life.

“Yeah. I’m...holy shit. I’ve never had it so good,” I whisper.

I’ve never had it at all, but I’m afraid to mention that technicality.


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