Read Hooked Up: Book 3 for Free Online Page B

thighs, and I closed myself tightly around him, still feigning the “hard to get” female. But within seconds I was whimpering with pleasure. He didn’t slam himself inside me, which was what I was expecting, but started fucking my clit. Oh my God  . . . it felt out of this world. He was not even an inch in, but just ramming me back and forth, pummeling me there on my sweet spot—why hadn’t we tried this position before? This was amazing. I was groaning, thrusting myself at him as I sensed my wetness pool with arousal.
    “Alexandre, this is . . . wow . . . oh my God !”
    His hands clutched my hair as he fucked my clit over and over and over, groaning with each thrust, his mouth on mine, his tongue searching my tongue, tangling and lashing at each other as his cock thrashed my nub relentlessly. I always thought it ridiculous when I read about women being “pounded” to orgasm, but it was about to happen. The rhythmic sliding, up and down, had me on the edge. I didn’t want to climax because this felt so fucking amazing that I wanted it to last forever— so hot, so sexy, so incredible—but I opened my legs a touch because my body was doing its own thing. He went in farther. He hit the perfect spot and that was it. Yes, Pearl Robinson was being “pounded” to orgasm.
    “Alexandre . . . aaahhhh.” I could hardly say his name as his mouth was hungrily all over mine. “I’m coming . . . oh wow, I’m coming really hard.”
    My slickness oozed through the core of me as spasms overtook the center of my body. He fastened his mouth on my throat and sucked, also changing the angle of his hips as the root of his erection pressed into some other magical spot. I felt another wave crash through me. He forced my thighs apart with his knees and I was wide open, my nails scraping his back as my orgasm fluttered down from its peak. He rammed himself into me, filling me with his immense size, and I cried out, desperate for the whole of him.
    He growled like a lion, really “fucking my brains out”—it was true, I was no longer coherent. He nipped my neck, covering me with ravenous wet kisses, pumping me deep, ruthlessly—both his hands cupping my ass tightly as he thrust me rhythmically, bringing me as close to his groin as possible with his grip. My hands raked down his back and clawed onto his butt as I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his neck. He was in so deep now it hurt, but I relished the sweet, sharp pain as he pumped his thick length into my womb.
    “I. Love. Fucking. You.” His mantra was almost cruel, punctuated with each thrust. “So. Fucking. Wet. So Fucking. Horny. My cock thinks about you. All . . . Day. Long. All. Fucking. Day. Long. Your. Wet. Pearlette. Your. Tight. Horny. Pussy. Always ready to be . . . Fucked. By. Me.”
    Our mouths were frantic, tongues lashing out at each other, licking all over, biting, sucking. This was not lovemaking, this was dirty, carnal sin. It was verging on painful, but I wanted it this way. I wanted to feel him. To own him. Laura didn’t elicit this kind of desire from him. I did. I was his addiction. I was his drug.
    “Why did you leave me?” I murmured as he crammed all of himself mercilessly into me. “Why didn’t you phone?” I pushed my butt up higher as my ankles closed fast about his neck.
    He pulled almost all the way out, tantalizingly slowly. “Because you needed to know how much you wanted me. And I needed to have you desperate for me.” He licked my tongue, speaking only between kisses . . . carnal pools of frantic desire.
    “I am desperate,” I breathed.
    He slammed back into me. “I know . . . your body’s telling me. Do you think about sex with me all day long, Pearl?”
    “Yes.” He pulled out teasingly slowly. Sooo slowly.
    “Are you cured of your penis phobia?” He thrust himself in really deep, and hard. I groaned. I felt so dominated. Then he eased a tiny way out and sped up, circling his hips. Oh