Hard Limit (St. Louis Mavericks #2) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance, Sports, Suspense, Tear Jerker Tags Authors: Series: St. Louis Mavericks Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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“Sorry,” she murmured.

“It’s okay. It tickles?”

“No, it’s just…no one’s ever done that to me before.”

She was waxed and trimmed neatly, and I kissed the spot right above her pubic bone. “Done what?”

“Um…you know, had their mouth below my waistline.”

I got to my knees and looked up at her, confused. “But you are one of the most beautiful women in the world. Do you not like that?”

“I don’t know, because no one’s ever…”

“Can I?”

Her sigh was ragged. “I mean…you don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

I didn’t just want to. I was dying to. I put two fingers in my mouth and then used them to tease her slowly, trying to relax her. She moaned and opened her legs wider as I coaxed her clit. I didn’t need to ask her if she liked it—she did. When I slid my fingers inside her and flicked my tongue over her clit, she groaned loudly.

“Oh my God, that feels good.”

I made it last, bringing her close and then slowing down several times. Her body was so damn responsive, her pussy soaked and her hips bucking by the time I let her come. And when she did, it was with a long, deep cry of satisfaction.

Her hips dropped back to the bed and she laughed softly. “Lars?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never felt anything that amazing in my life.”

“I am glad.”

“I hope you have condoms.”

“Yes, I have a twelve pack.”

She sat up on her elbows and gave me a sexy grin. “Get one on.”

I quickly got off the bed and took a roll of condoms out of my pocket, then unfastened my jeans and pushed them to the floor with my boxers.

“Whoa,” Sheridan said from the bed. “That’s…wow.”

Glancing down and then back up at her, I tore open a condom packet and rolled it on. “It is larger than average, but I will not hurt you, I promise.”

With a single note of laughter, she said, “I’m not worried about it. I was just…surprised. Pleasantly surprised.”

Lowering my brows, I said, “You thought I would have a small penis?”

“No! I just didn’t expect it to be the size of my forearm, that’s all.”

“It is not that big.”

“Lars.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking and fuck me.”

Chapter Five

Sheridan

* * *

I knew the moment I woke up that I was alone in my king-size bed and I sighed as I rolled over. Having his huge, warm body draped all over mine as we’d slept had been…wonderful. In fact, everything about last night had been wonderful. I’d never come so hard, so many times in a row. No one had ever touched me the way Lars had. It was almost scary how good in bed he was.

Not that I had much to compare him to, but I knew instinctively that the physical connection we’d had wasn’t the norm. I’d lost track of all the ways he’d pleasured me, and my body tingled from both the memory of his lovemaking and the faint soreness between my legs. We’d had intercourse four times, in between bouts of kissing and oral, and I’d never been with anyone as big as Lars. Sure, I had a selection of toys I used to pleasure myself, but Lars was better—and bigger—than all of them put together.

It was ironic that he’d left without saying goodbye. I’d been worried about how to kindly get him out of my apartment in the morning. I didn’t have room in my life for a guarded professional athlete who’d spent most of the evening giving me mixed signals. Hell, I barely had room in my life for anyone. Between my lingerie company, physical therapy, a bazillion different doctor appointments, and trying to figure out what I wanted to do next, I had a lot on my plate.

Today was Sunday though, the only day of the week I allowed myself the luxury of doing nothing. I didn’t think too hard, work, or even usually talk to anyone, though Vanessa always checked in. I washed up and pulled on yoga pants, an old, oversized T-shirt, socks, and sneakers. I’d have coffee, stretch, and then head up to my studio, which was a separate loft in this building. No one knew about it, not even Vanessa. It was the one place I could go when I needed to escape everything—even myself. I could paint, draw, listen to music, watch shows on the DVR, and daydream. I tried to relax there, lose myself in art and solitude, though it didn’t always work out that way.

Despite my best efforts to put Lars out of my mind, it was impossible to stop thinking about him. My body ached in the best possible way as I walked into my studio, a cup of tea in my hand. I’d put it in the mug Lars had bought me last night and I thought back to me telling him I’d hold his hand if he was scared. That had been my first taste of those big, beautiful hands of his. The same hands that brought me so much damn pleasure. I inadvertently moaned as I pictured the way he’d looked as he’d slid inside of me. The expression on his face had been one of pure rapture, as if he’d loved the way I felt just as much as I’d loved the way he made me feel. As if our bodies were made for each other.


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