The Specialist (Men of Hidden Justice #5) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Hidden Justice Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
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I just needed a minute.

Or two.

SOFIA

I arrived home, fully expecting to be greeted by Egan. In my apartment, I had a quick shower and changed into a pair of loose pants and a sweatshirt. It was old and soft from being laundered so often, and it hung off one shoulder, the neckline loose and stretched. It was one of my favorites and spelled comfort to me.

Using my key, I let myself into Egan’s place, immediately smelling the coffee. The apartment was quiet as I poured a cup and snuck a pastry he had on a covered plate on the counter. He always had something sweet around. Again, I was surprised he wasn’t there, then remembered his words about waiting for me in his bed. I finished the sticky treat and the coffee and padded to the bedroom. I stood in the doorway, gazing at the sight that greeted me.

Egan was passed out on the bed. It looked as if he’d sat down and fell backward, falling asleep immediately. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he wore only a towel around his waist. His arms were stretched over his head, and his legs were splayed wide. His chest moved up and down in a rhythmic beat. I stepped closer, filled with wonder and longing.

How had I resisted this man for so long? His arms were thick and muscled. His pecs and abs defined. His long legs were toned and strong. He was gorgeous. Sexy, even in sleep. With his tousled hair, beautiful, sculpted body, and the symmetry of his handsome face, he was captivating. However, I noticed, although he slept, his gorgeous hands twitched, and the frown lines on his face and around his mouth were deep. His sleep wasn’t bringing him any rest. Something had upset him, and judging from the dark circles under his eyes, he’d been up the entire night. No doubt, he’d sat down and finally gave in to exhaustion. He tried to match his hours to mine, staying up late and sleeping with me when I got home for short periods, before he went to work, leaving me to rest before my next shift. He was already tired before last night, and by this morning, he must have been exhausted.

I crept closer, watching him. The urge to touch, to kiss him, was strong. I wanted to do something to help him relax fully and to sleep deeply. I bit back my grin as I realized I knew exactly how to do that. I stepped between his legs, gently pulling on the towel, exposing him to my eyes. Even in sleep, he was at half-mast, and I touched his cock, barely tracing it with my fingers, smiling as he swelled, growing hard and long. A thick vein ran around him, the dark color and head tempting. I lowered myself, tracing the vein with my tongue, feeling him getting harder. He moaned in his sleep, clenching his hands.

“Sofia,” he murmured, still asleep.

Resting my hands on either side of his hips, I engulfed him in my mouth, sucking lightly. He tasted of water, man, Egan. His scent surrounded me, his cock stretching my lips, hitting the back of my throat. He jerked, waking fully, and his hands flew to my head. “Sofia,” he repeated. “Iubirea mea.”

I licked the shaft, swirling my tongue on the swollen head. Teased the slit. He groaned, arching his back.

“More,” he begged. “Use your tongue. Suck me.”

I cupped his balls and took him deeper. I swallowed around him, and he cursed, fisting my hair. “Like that, Sofia. Just like that.”

I played and stroked his balls. Moved my head. Pulled back so he was almost out, then sucked him back in. He groaned and cursed in Romanian. In English. Praised me. Begged me.

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Ah, take me deeper.”

“Fuck yes, Sofia. Like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I want to wake up like this every day.”

I met his eyes as I began to move faster. Feel the way he was swelling. Knowing he was going to come.

“You look so good like that,” he panted. “With my cock in your mouth.” His head fell back, his neck arching, the veins standing out. “Sofia, I’m going… You need to move… I can’t…”

He called out a list of gods. Cursed and shook. Came in my mouth in long, hot spurts. His fists tightened in my hair, but he never hurt me. He spasmed and trembled. Then he went still, and with a final sweep of my tongue, I pulled off him, lifting my head.

He was breathing hard, his chest pumping up and down with the effort. I rubbed his thighs, feeling the muscles contract with my touch. He lifted his head, meeting my eyes.

“Good morning, mio guerriero.”

With a roar, he sat up, dragging me to him. He tore my sweatshirt over my head, yanking down my pants. He pulled me to his chest, rolling over on me, his mouth covering mine.


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