Make-Believe Match (Cherry Tree Harbor #3) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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“I couldn’t get over your eyes,” I whispered. “Or your jawline. Your cheekbones. Actually, your whole face.”

“You should sit on it.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” He flipped onto his back and grabbed my arm, tugging me toward him. “I need a little recovery time. You like my face. I want to fuck you with my tongue. This is a win for both of us, Lexi.”

Gingerly, I crawled up his body. “Are you sure? What if you can’t breathe?”

“Then I’ll die happy and you’ll inherit all my riches. Still winning.” He hooked his hands beneath my thighs and pulled me up so I straddled his face. Then he licked up my center with a long, leisurely stroke. “Now grab on to that headboard and go for a ride. Don’t rush it, either. Take it nice and easy.” He dipped his tongue inside me. “I want to get my fill of you.”

Shoving my nerves aside, I placed my hands on the velvet headboard, closed my eyes, and began to move my hips in a lazy rocking motion. He matched my rhythm with his tongue—drawn-out, decadent strokes that rekindled the flame inside me. But every time I began to move faster, he’d give me a little slap on the ass. “Slow down, wife.”

I tried to slow down, but he was so fucking good with his tongue, I couldn’t help myself. In no time at all, I would speed right up again, earning myself another spanking and admonishment. “Devlin, please,” I begged. “Let me come. Is it okay now?”

“Such a good girl to ask permission,” he said. “I think you deserve a reward for that.” His palms moved over my ass, pulling me tighter to his face while he sucked my clit. Lightning bolts of desire shot through me, taking me straight to the edge. He slid his palms up to my breasts, pinching the puckered tips, and I burst wide open, the climax rocketing through me as I hung on to the headboard for dear life, crying out with every delectable pulse.

I didn’t even have time to catch my breath before Devlin tipped me onto my back and stretched out above me. “Don’t. Move.”

He didn’t need to worry—all I wanted was him inside me. In ten seconds he was back, tearing open a condom wrapper and rolling it onto his cock. My body was practically shaking with need. I’d never experienced desire like this before. Every nerve ending was on fire. Every muscle was screaming. If he asked me to get on my knees and beg, I’d do it.

But I didn’t have to.

He placed himself between my open legs. We both moaned as he slid inside me, and I swear to God, it was like my previous orgasm picked right up where it left off, because with just a few strokes of his long, hard cock, my core was tightening up again.

“Fuck, you feel way too good.” Devlin’s voice was all panic, no control. There was no delaying this gratification. He moved like a hungry lion uncaged. “And you’re so fucking hot and wet. You take my cock so deep. So hard.”

“I want it,” I rasped, clawing at his ass with my nails, yanking him into me, holding him there while he ground against me. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop . . .” At that point, I couldn’t talk anymore because my stomach muscles contracted so hard, it stole my breath. Over and over again, he drove in deep, and my body gripped him harder with every single thrust.

Then I was lost to it, the climax tearing through me with the force of a hurricane, my face buried in his neck, my mouth open in silent throes. He powered through a few more deep, hard thrusts before going plank stiff, buried deep inside me. Just as my orgasm was fading, his broke loose, and I was able to feel every single throb of him inside me.

I clung to him like a woman overboard.

And maybe I was.

TEN

devlin

We were bleary-eyed and dizzy with exhaustion the next morning, but we made it to the airport on time—barely.

“Caffeine,” moaned Lexi, the way a zombie moans for brains. “I need caffeine.”

“I’ll get us some.” I nudged her forward in line at security, smiling at her off-kilter bun, her mismatched socks, the dark circles under her eyes. I’d made good on that promise to fuck her all night long. And even going on less than a couple hours’ sleep, she was still beautiful.

She’d asked to wear the Two Buckleys sweatshirt again. Between that and the ring on her finger, I was experiencing some feelings that weren’t exactly normal for me when it came to women. Protective. A little possessive. Kind of caveman-like. I’d started calling her wife because I thought it was funny—and to be honest, just to poke at her because she was giving me such a hard time about the night we met—but I had to admit, the word kind of turned me on.


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