Myla – The Hawthornes Read Online Nicole Jacquelyn

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, MC, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
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“That’s it,” he praised. “Fuck, good girl. Jesus, Myla.”

I’d never felt anything like it. I’d had plenty of orgasms, both self-procured and with someone else, but I’d never had an orgasm like that. Tears rolled down the sides of my face as I came back down. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a mixture of awe and something else that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Come here,” I whispered hoarsely, reaching for him.

I needed him closer. I needed his arms around me. The shelter of his body. It felt like my body was going to shatter into a thousand different pieces, and I’d never be able to find them again. Every part of me was trembling with aftershocks.

“Okay?” he whispered, falling forward until his forearms bracketed my head and the comfort of his big body pressed me to the bed.

“Yeah,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his back. “Better.”

“Good.”

He continued to thrust as the aftershocks from my orgasm made me jerk and gasp, but it wasn’t long before he gripped the inside of my thigh and pressed it wide as he came with a grunt. As he slowed to a gentle glide, his hand slid inward and his thumb carefully brushed over my clit and then down, pressing against the delicate skin that stretched around his cock.

I let out a shuddering breath as I clenched around him.

“Too sensitive?” he asked quietly, his lips moving against my jaw.

“A little.” I shuddered again as his thumb made another pass.

He pulled his hand away and licked it absentmindedly before wiping the side of it against his chest.

“Why do you do that?” I asked, letting out a small moan of complaint as he pulled out.

“Do what?” he asked, lying down on his side next to me.

Boneless, I let him arrange me next to him, our chests pressed together and one of my knees pressed between his. I wanted to be closer, as close as we could get.

“You know,” I said tiredly, licking my finger and wiping it against my chest the way he’d done it.

“What?” He stared at me in confusion.

“You lick your fingers and then wipe them on your chest. You did it twice.”

It took him a second before his expression cleared. “Oh.” He let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Want you on me.”

I just looked at him.

“Wanna taste it,” he said, leaning closer. “And I wanna smell it later.”

My mouth dropped open in surprise. “That’s what you’re doing?”

“Why is that surprisin’?”

“You want to smell like sex?” I asked in disbelief.

“I wanna smell like your pussy,” he corrected.

I let out a surprised giggle.

“Smells good,” he whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You’re nuts.”

“It does,” he said, his hand shoving between us to cup me. He made a sound of satisfaction as he pulled his hand back out. “Look at that. So fuckin’ wet.”

“That’s yours,” I argued, still giggling as he ran his hand over his chest and then mine. “Cian!”

“That’s you,” he said, gripping me tight as he rolled us over. “You were fuckin’ drippin’ before I even got inside you.”

“I was not,” I protested. I knew my face was red from the heat in my cheeks.

“You were. Makeup sex must be your thing.”

“Sex with you is my thing,” I corrected quietly.

“Happy to hear that,” he murmured, letting even more of his weight rest on me until I was fully pinned and our noses were touching.

I stared. His lashes were so long.

“Why the tears, baby?” he asked softly, the tips of his fingers tracing the dried tear tracks on my temples.

“I have no idea,” I whispered back, my throat tightening. “It was a lot.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. “Knew it would be.”

“Me too.”

“Happy, though?”

“Oh, yeah,” I breathed.

I didn’t think I’d ever been happier in my life. The man I’d loved for years was laying on top of me, naked, after the best sex I’d ever had—I never wanted to leave that bed again.

Cian rolled to his back, taking me with him, and flipped the blankets over us. It reminded me of when we’d shared the sleeping bag, and I smiled against his chest as his fingers traced back and forth across my bare back.

It must have reminded him of the same thing.

“I’m sorry I left your ass swingin’ with your pop,” he said quietly, kissing the top of my head. “Fucked up.”

“You were trying to defend yourself,” I conceded, spreading my hand over the tattoo on his chest. “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“I was fuckin’ pissed,” he argued with a huff. “You scared the shit outta me.”

“I was taking care of it,” I murmured.

His hand stilled on my back. “I didn’t handle it well.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Didn’t blame you.”

“Sure seemed like it,” I said gently. “But here’s the thing: I should be able to walk around stark naked and drunk off my ass and still be safe to say no.”


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