The Wrong Man Read Online Natasha Anders (Alpha Men #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Alpha Men Series by Natasha Anders
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
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She pushed the material of his shorts out of the way and gently released his hardness and watched in satisfaction as it throbbed against his stomach. Her face was so close to it, he could feel her breath on his sensitive flesh, and part of him was desperate for her to take him in her mouth, but another part wanted something else, wanted to experience the tightness of her body again. Right now, he wanted that much more than her mouth. She stood up and straddled his knees, tugging her tight skirt up to her thighs. Her crotch was level with his eyes, but he couldn’t see her—her skirt was still modestly covering the part of her he now craved the most.

“Give me your hand,” she urged, and he held up his left hand. She took it in her much smaller right hand and without any warning whatsoever pushed it beneath her skirt. They both hissed sharply when his hand made contact with her moist heat, and she moaned when he found her clit. Her lower lip caught between her teeth when he clumsily stroked her, his left hand heavy and uncooperative and definitely not equal to this most important of tasks.

He tried his best and she didn’t mind his clumsiness at all—she looked like a fucking goddess, her pelvis gently thrusting against his questing touch as her hands went to her breasts and unclipped the fastening of her bra. Her palms immediately cupped the small mounds, completely obscuring them from view, and her head tilted back as she worked herself back and forth over his fingers.

“Do you have a condom?” she suddenly asked on a broken breath, and Sam snapped out of his erotic fog as he hazily registered that his fucking condoms were upstairs in the bathroom.

“They’re upstairs,” he groaned. She was still rubbing herself against his hand, and Sam couldn’t seem to focus on anything else. She pointed to the sofa beside him.

“Brand . . . my bag. I have a couple of condoms.”

“You do?” Really? That was unexpected, to say the least. She blushed and shrugged, striving for unconcern when she looked embarrassed as hell.

“I stole them from Daff and Spencer’s medicine chest tonight,” she confessed, and Sam choked back a laugh at that revelation. Sam had to withdraw his hand from all that wonderful heat in order to grab the bag, and Lia moaned at the loss. When he fumbled around in her bag, she took it from him impatiently and withdrew the condoms herself.

That move finally revealed her pretty little pink-tipped breasts to his greedy gaze, and while she struggled to tear open a foil packet, he leaned forward and tugged one of her hard nipples into his mouth for a sample. But a mere taste wouldn’t do, and soon he was feasting. He was vaguely aware of Lia wrapping her arms around his head and encouraging him to suckle harder—something he was very happy to do. His clumsy left hand crept back beneath her skirt, this time not content to just stroke; he plundered her with his fingers, easing the way for the invasion to come.

“Oh yes, oh yes. Oh thank you . . .” This last was moaned as she clenched tightly around his fingers when her orgasm took her. He couldn’t recall ever being thanked during sex before, and Sam grinned. It was so typically and charmingly Lia. She slumped heavily against him, her legs giving in until she was straddling his lap, her heat within touching distance of his throbbing shaft.

“Think you can get that condom on me now, sunshine?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Give me just one moment, please,” she begged breathlessly, her voice muffled by his throat.

“I fear we might not have a moment,” Sam said, fighting the urge to smile. That spurred her into action; she pushed herself up and stared at him with barely focusing eyes. She looked drugged, dazed, and a little bit devastated. But despite that, she managed to get him sheathed in the condom, her hands fumbling even more than his left hand had. Sam wasn’t certain how he managed to keep himself from coming in her hands, but he was damned proud of his restraint.

Proud until she lifted herself up and over him, proud until he found himself completely engulfed in her tight heat, proud for all of the thirty seconds it took before he came, violently and messily and quite fucking spectacularly. She was in the middle of her upward stroke and he gripped her skirt with his good hand and dragged her back down onto his spasming cock. Kept her down while he emptied himself inside her.

“Oh my sweet, sweet Christ,” he groaned, his hand leaving her skirt and burying itself in her hair. He pulled her close until her face was nestled in the spot where his shoulder met his neck. She happily nuzzled him there and sighed contentedly.


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