Preppy: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater Read Online T.M. Frazier (King #7)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: King Series by T.M. Frazier
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
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He then followed my gaze to his chest.

My skin flushed, and I suddenly felt light-headed.

A shiver ran down my spine.

I reached out to touch him again but pulled back when I realized I was trembling.

“Shit,” Preppy swore when he noticed the blood pouring out in a slow but steady stream. He looked from the scratch to me. Neither one of us made a move to clean the blood off ourselves or one another, just continued to stare at one another.

My mouth grew dry.

I couldn’t say the same for my panties.

Preppy breathed in deep. A growl erupted from deep within his throat, a sound that made my entire body hum with awareness. He grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt and tore it open, sending buttons careening around the bed and onto the floor.

“That was your shirt,” I pointed out, breathing heavily. My face flushed and my cheeks grew hot.

Preppy raked his gaze over my exposed breasts and hardened nipples, and I felt my body come alive under his inspection. “I don’t fucking care,” he said. “I’d tear every fucking shirt I ever had to shreds for this. I’d walk around shirtless every single day just to see you like this for one fucking second.”

Preppy lifted his eyes from my body and our gazes locked.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Then all holy hell broke loose.

Preppy’s mouth came crashing down over mine as the dam built out of concern for one another’s well-being broke apart, flooding the air around us with pure unbridled lust. The want and need to feel connected took precedence over everything including breathing. Our tongues collided and tangled. I fisted a handful of his hair and tugged him closer. We couldn’t get close enough fast enough.

Not then.

Not ever.

Preppy reached around my back and lifted my hips so that my core was flush against his hardness under his pants. I moaned when I felt his heat through the fabric. He grabbed the underside of one of my thighs, kneading it with his hands before forcing my legs around his waist.

We rocked against one another. Writhing. Moaning. Desperate to feel something that wasn’t dread or relief.

Alive.

And no one walking the earth had ever made me feel alive the way Preppy did.

I reached between us and unbuttoned his khakis. He pulled his hips back briefly so I could shove his pants and boxers down over the perfect globes of his ass to the floor. He kicked them off his feet and was right back on me where we’d left off. His lips against mine. His cock up against my opening with only the fabric of my panties separating us.

Preppy released my mouth to suck one of my stiffened peaks of my nipple into his mouth, lapping it with his tongue while he dug his fingers into the cheeks of my ass. I writhed against him until I swore if he kept going I could’ve come just from the friction of his cock against my panties.

“Fuck this, I need you, Doc. I need you now,” Preppy demanded. His voice deep and hoarse. He didn’t bother taking off my panties. There was no time for that. We were frantic with need. He hooked two fingers around the soaking wet fabric and pulled it to the side as he lined up the massive head of his cock with my pussy. The feeling of the hot silky skin of his hardness right at the place I needed him most sent a wave of pleasure coursing through my body.

I shivered.

“Yes. Now. I need you NOW,” I said, my insides contracting around emptiness, desperate to be filled.

Preppy fisted his cock. He moved so quick that by the time he was surging forward, his lips were already back on mine. His tongue seeking mine as his cock sought a different kind of entrance, stretching and filling me each glorious inch by inch until I was incoherently moaning his name into his mouth, rolling my hips to accommodate more of his massive size. Each movement of my body eliciting another spark of need.

Pleasure so great it fucking hurt. A beautiful kind of pain I never wanted to stop feeling.

“Fuck,” Preppy groaned, pulling his lips from mine to look down to where we were connected. He pulled out slightly only to surge back in. Harder. Deeper. “Goddamn it, Dre. So fucking good. Every fucking time.” He pulled back again and pushed his hips forward, mumbling swears while he repeated this motion until he fully seated himself inside me. The sweet stretching sensation caused my inner walls to tighten around his shaft. We both gasped at the sensation.

The cut on his chest hadn’t stopped bleeding, only now the blood started dripping off his nipple onto my stomach. The friction of our bodies rubbing against one another loosened the bandage on my thigh, smearing fresh pink against Preppy’s hands and forearms as he used my body as leverage. His own blood dripped steadily from his nipple with each hard thrust, splattering against my breasts, painting my pale skin in a tattoo of red swirls and smears.


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