Taming the Playboy Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
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His hands roam all over me as we kiss, lost in our tongues clashing and the sparks sending even more temptation surging over me.

“Now, Lucy, my perfect fucking virgin.”

He takes a step back, staring at me with the expression I once mistook for anger or disinterest. But now, as he consumes me with his confident gaze, I see it for what it really is.

It’s him holding himself back from fully unleashing on me.

“I might need some help with this dress,” I murmur.

His lips tremble as he smirks. “That depends on if you mind me tearing it.”

Another moan escapes me. Nerves try to push me down constantly, trying to invade this moment and poison it with its bullshit.

But I force it away, force everything away except for the essential unbelievable body-tingling fact that Logan Locke wants me, just me.

All my silly fantasies….

They’re coming true right now.

“If you don’t mind tearing the dress,” I murmur. “I don’t. It’s just…you paid for….”

I’m about to say it, but then he’s on me again. He moves like a savage finally let out of his cage, his claim-me hands gripping my hips.

I squeal in delight as he tears at the fabric, his breath coming quick, hot as it paints over my skin.

He can’t stop. I can feel it, the urgency, and I answer with the same.

My hands move to his shirt, ripping at the buttons. We kiss in stolen snatches between the bursts of lust, both of us unable to stop, never wanting to stop.

He groans through a kiss as I tear my fingernails down his chest. I pop buttons, my body driving me on, my core fueling wave upon wave of desire that makes my body sizzle, every inch of it.

That’s what we are, for a little while. The kissing and the tearing, completely giving ourselves to this sensation of ultimate, undeniable desire.

Then he pulls the dress up, over my head, in a way he wouldn’t have been able to before he tore it. He moans when I’m standing here in my underwear, his gaze moving to my breasts as he leans down, pulling my bra down and pushing my breasts together.

I whimper as he sucks on my nipples, one then the other.

It’s the feeling of it, his tongue swirling around, but it’s also the way he moans. It’s like he can’t believe how much he loves my breasts, how sexy I am. And even if my instinct is to push that away, I don’t. I embrace it, stroking my hands over his shoulders and tugging at his shirt.

He moves his arms, letting the shirt slide away.

I gasp as he immediately grabs my breasts again, groaning. His muscles are round and huge and taut.

He kisses me again, grabbing my panties and pulling them roughly. I shuffle as he pulls them down, helping him, feeling the air prick at my super-sensitive core, still needy from earlier, still remembering how heavenly it felt to have his tongue between my legs.

But what about his huge, rock-hard dick?

I kiss away the nerves – or try to – and then start smoothing my hand down his body. Toward his cock. Even if it makes me feel a little self-conscious.

I remember how it felt before when he was slipping between my breasts, the captivation in his eyes as he gazed down.

The obsession, is not one-sided anymore, not a silly crush anymore, but real life.

Happening. Us.

“Oh my God,” I moan when he palms my bare pussy. He slides his fingers up and down my clit, then over my folds and to my entrance.

“You’re so wet already,” he growls, rubbing me faster. “Your soaked pussy is so damn perfect.”

He moves his finger to my entrance again, stroking around it in tempting circles before he slips inside of me.

I collapse against him, squeezing onto his arms so hard my own arms begin to ache.

His hand pumps faster, finger gliding in and out of me.

My wetness makes noises, and, for a moment, I’m almost ashamed.

I almost want to take it back.

But then I hear the noises he’s making, the lust in his husky breath.

I squeeze onto his arm as it thrusts into me, his finger sliding in quicker, going deep and pushing against a sweet spot inside of me.

“I need you,” he growls, taking his finger out and gently pushing me back.

I fall onto the bed, lying down and staring up at him. He looms like the giant he is, his muscles chiseled, his abs a tight pack of power.

I unclip my bra properly, letting out a long breath as I watch him take off his pants. He pulls them down savagely as if he can’t wait for us to be naked together.

His cock springs free, huge, and already rock-hard for me, the same way I was soaked for him.

We can’t help it. We can’t fight it.



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