Perfect Grump – Bad Chicago Bosses Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Billionaire, New Adult, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
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With an unwavering hellfire-green stare, he undoes his pants and pushes himself off the seat to let them drop, along with his boxers.

“Are you afraid?” he whispers.

“No,” I whisper back, swallowing hard.

It’s not quite a lie. Concerned feels more accurate, seeing how large he is, and knowing how fierce he can be when he’s actually given a chance to break me.

Only one way to find out...

I straddle him again.

He slides his hand between my legs, shoving them apart.

All the better for stroking his fingers back and forth across my opening. He finds the small nub above my wetness and starts tracing circles.

Slow. Deliberate. Intense.

My body trembles. “Oh. Nick!”

His lips fuse to my bare shoulder.

He turns his face up and whispers, “It gets even better.”

Better? How?

I’m afraid I’ll explode on the spot.

And he tests my limit as he kisses my skin, still working his fingers into my pussy, teething harsh marks on my skin from my shoulder to my breast before he seizes one nipple in his mouth again.

It’s been nice knowing you.

Because this is his better, and it’s absolutely fatal.

Bright sensations hit me from everywhere at once as his fingers sweep low, teasing my slit, and then pushing in with one stroke.

His thumb lingers on my clit while his fingers find this magic spot against my inner wall.

I don’t even last a minute.

Everything rips apart in a breathless gasp and a rough command from his lips.

“Fucking come for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

Like I could do anything else.

Like I could stop the orgasm from Hades tearing through me, my legs shaking against his hand, riding his fingers into oblivion.

Nick Brandt doesn’t even need to ask me to come.

I do it, unhinged and helpless, because it’s what I’ve been craving for a year.

It’s the same scalding desire that’s always owned me—even when I hated it—and now the reality of that pleasure takes over, impounding me for life.

I. Am. His.

I’m barely conscious when I feel his tongue tracing my lips, his forehead pressed against mine. “Reese, will you take me? Right here in the car?”

Shiiit.

This man could take me in a dumpster and I wouldn’t deny him. Whimpering, I throw my legs around his waist, biting my lip.

“Do it, do it. Please!” Yes, I’m freaking begging, and I don’t care.

Not when I see the madness in his eyes as he rears back on his hips, grabbing something off the seat next to him.

Not when he rips the condom package he readied at some point when I wasn’t looking with his teeth.

Not when Nick damn Brandt thrusts slowly and firmly and greedily into my soaked, trembling depths with a claiming kiss that holds my lips—and my screams—hostage.

“Fuck!” I shriek against him, muffled by his shoulder.

There’s a flash of discomfort, my walls stretching, fighting to accommodate his fullness.

“Are you okay?” He stops, pulling back.

“Yeah. I’m...don’t stop,” I whisper. “For the love of everything, don’t stop.”

That caveman look reenters his eyes, and his cock shifts again, sliding back and surging home again for a second thrust.

Every inch of me floats as we find our rhythm. Pleasure comes, numbing the sharpness I felt at first.

I’ve never been filled like by another man, but I know it wouldn’t be like this.

I wouldn’t feel touched everywhere at once.

My legs shake against him. Another O roars in my depths.

I try to meet his thrusts, but I can’t keep up with his slashing hips. So I just keep my legs open and adore each time he arches into me, urging him on with moans that just get louder.

If the park wasn’t totally deserted and a steady rain wasn’t beating the roof, I might be worried.

Because this man could get an entire concert out of me, that much I’m sure.

It must be intense for him, too.

If I wasn’t completely gone, I’d smile at that, but all I can do is suck his tongue into my mouth when he dives in for another kiss, when his hips sweep low, grinding his pubic bone on my clit.

“Reese, goddammit!” His hand rakes through my hair, twirling it into a fist.

He pulls my hair with just the right pressure, a second before his head jerks back and every sweat-slick muscle on his torso bows.

The explosion building in my core kicks off a second ahead of his.

It clenches and throbs and shakes me to the bone.

“Nick, Nick—Nick!” I cry his name, the last coherent thought in my head, feeling him plunging into me.

Yes, plunging.

That’s the only way I can describe how he pushes in to the hilt, smashing his balls on my butt, his cock swelling with angry promise.

I barely have a frantic second to take his mouth, to swallow his groan, to moan into his mouth.

Then the mother of all climaxes comes crashing down, sweeping me away in this undulating wave of thunder.

For the next several minutes, I have no earthly idea what happens.


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