My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison #3) Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Poison Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
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“Can you?” And there it is, the temptation, handed to me on a silver platter.

It’s dangerous to do that.

Exceedingly dangerous.

But like any good shark, I’m going to take the bite and sink my teeth right in.

“I can.” It takes two heavy breaths until my hand slides around the back of her neck. It would take one more breath for her to pull away and tell me no. But she doesn’t.

I pull her to me, and she comes willingly. My lips touch hers softly and caress them. I lick her lips, tasting her, and she shivers beneath me. I can feel it go all the way through her body because ours are touching in almost every way.

And not just her shiver.

I feel everything.

The warmth that comes off her to the way her cold, wet nipples are hardening against my bare chest.

Her swimsuit doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and for that, I am grateful.

“Beckham …” The word leaves her mouth, but she doesn’t open her eyes as I continue to kiss and taste her.

My favorite taste. My preferred thing to eat before her would have been a brownie that was cooked just right and melts in your mouth. But I think I like the taste of Jacinta just a little bit more.

She opens her mouth for me, and I have to remember to breathe and not just inhale her smell.

When our lips connect, it’s soft, gentle, and smooth.

I haven’t felt this type of tremble inside me for a long time.

Pulling back, I shake my head.

When I fuck, it helps numb the pain, not bring out new emotions I have no desire to experience.

So what the fuck is going on?

And why, as I stare at her, does she make me feel anything but hate for her?

Chapter 12

Jacinta.

I may have had too much to drink, and I may not be thinking clearly, but I can’t seem to stop what’s happening. My body wants what he can give me, even when he pulls away.

I didn’t expect him to, but I’m not sure I can stop him either. My hand reaches out and touches his bare chest. He’s smooth, with a smattering of hair in the middle of his chest and his happy trail, which my hands seem to be heading for.

He watches me, his eyes half-closed, his lashes fanning his cheek.

This could end badly.

Exceedingly badly.

I set boundaries with him, and here I am about to break them.

I wonder if I should speak, tell him about all the thoughts running through my mind, but before I can, his mouth closes in on me, and my hands dip below his loose shorts to reach for his cock. I grasp it, and my mouth opens in a gasp. This gives him access, and his tongue is quick to slide inside my mouth while his hand finds my breast and squeezes. It’s rough, but I like it. A lot.

My hand squeezes his cock in return, and I wonder what it would be like to have it slide between my legs and straight in. Would it make me as crazy for his touch as I am right now?

When I breathe, I’m basically gasping for air.

The night sky is the only light out here, apart from the pool a few feet away from us. His hand leaves my breast and joins the other to slide around to my ass and lift me up effortlessly. No man has picked me up with this type of need before. I’ve had two lovers. One of them I fell pregnant too, and the other loved someone else.

And now, Beckham is about to make a third.

Hopefully, he doesn’t love someone else or make me pregnant.

Both could be bad. Even worse than the situation at hand right now.

And believe me, there is a situation because somehow, he has gotten my top undone and falling away from my neck, revealing my breast. He lays me back on my bed, not letting go of me as he follows me down.

Our lips break apart, and as they do, he pulls his cock free and leans back toward me. I avoid looking at him because I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, what is running through his mind right now.

All I want is to feel.

Physically.

And he can do that, in every aspect.

But that’s what has gotten me in trouble in the past.

I like to feel.

My hands circle around his back, dragging my nails up his skin as he positions himself between my legs.

It’s then my eyes find him. By then, it’s too late to back out, and going by the smirk that touches his lips, he knows this.

“Beckham—” Before I can finish my words, he slides in, effectively cutting me off. My legs wrap around his waist, and my head drops back at the pure pleasure my bikini bottoms lay on the floor discarded.


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