Angel Breaker – Dark Romance (Angel Prison #1) Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Angel Prison Series by Loki Renard
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
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He’s a brave man, this doctor. A good man. I can only imagine what twisted deal Starlight has lured him into. I turn my face toward them now. I want to read their expressions. I want to see how angry the sheriff is at being told to stop.

To my surprise, Starlight doesn’t seem to care at all. He gives a shrug and inflicts one last lash. This time he does not make full contact with the belt. Instead he flicks it so it snaps like a whip and only the tip of it makes contact with my heated flesh.

“You are correct, doctor,” Starlight agrees. “The medical bay is no place for her. She’s well enough to leave.”

He reaches down and disconnects the chain holding my leg to the bed, scoops me up around the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I hang where I am, somewhat limp. My plan is to lull him into a false sense of security. He might be convinced that I have been taught a lesson with his little belting. Men are usually willing to believe they are more effective than they really are.

Starlight

My plan was to incarcerate her in a small cell and treat her like a prisoner. That would gall her. Katie thinks she is something special, because she is. I need to break her of her arrogance and self-importance. I need to teach her that when she’s with me, she’s no special angel. She’s my defiled, broken angel.

My cock is throbbing inside my pants in the aftermath of that little lesson. She has a gorgeous ass and thighs, and the golden down on her pussy adorns a chalice I yearn to drink from. I did not anticipate having to work quite so hard to contain my impulses around Katya. I thought I would find it a lot easier to contain myself. I am not used to finding myself enchanted by a woman. I especially did not think this one would come with any risk of softer feelings. We last slept together the better part of nine years ago. It’s a bit long to still be besotted.

I find that I want her to myself. I don’t want her in a cell. I want her in my room. I want her in my bed.

Instead of turning left and heading back to the cell block, I take a right and go upstairs to what I loosely call the penthouse suite. It is the tallest tower in the prison, and it is built over the administration wing. The windows are barred, but not with typical prison bars. I had the finest iron wrights commissioned to create scenes of significance across the windows.

My large, open plan living quarters here are furnished in black. Black bed with black sheets and pillows, black kitchen appliances and counters, black couches. The only relief from the many shades of black is the flooring, which appears to be of natural wood in origin. Oak, or maybe mahogany. They told me when they were constructing it, but I lost interest almost immediately.

There is a cage beside the bed. A large cage, more generously proportioned than the one I transported her in. I know when Katie sees it, because I hear her groan.

“That’s right,” I tell her. “I’ll always have somewhere to keep you safely.”

“You’ll never have anywhere to keep me safely,” she sasses back. She’s still conveniently located over my shoulder, at the perfect placement to get her bare ass spanked hard. I do just that, spanking her three times hard, letting my fingers drift between the crevice of her ass and down the slit of her sex with each and every stroke.

I expect a maidenly response of horror. Instead, I get an unmistakeable shudder and wet trail.

“You’re soaked, angel.”

“So? Even cadavers get erections,” she says, immediately cold and logical, at least verbally. There’s nothing cold about her physically. She’s hot as hell as she wriggles over my shoulder, but I can’t see her there. I drop her down onto her back on my bed and look down at her triumphantly. She’s mine. Finally. Here, in my bedroom, here in my realm. I control every bit of her life now.

I don’t like the hospital gown on her. It is shapeless and reminds me of my failure to keep her safe. As much as I want to be her tormentor, I also want to be her protector. Reaching down, I grasp the front of that garment and rip it off her in one powerful motion, stripping her instantly.

There are marks where the surgery was performed. She heals remarkably fast, and I am sure that by tomorrow there will be practically no sign of the altercation at all, but for now I see more than her nudity. I once again see my own failure in the beautiful nude curves of her body. Katie is no twenty-year-old. Her beauty is more refined and matured. Angelic blood does not change the way a woman ages. Katya’s breasts are full, and her stomach is soft, and her hips are generous. It is testament to her beauty that my eyes do not linger eternally on the bits and parts of womanliness, but instead are drawn inexorably to her face, to those glinting eyes that do not leave my visage for even a moment. She is less worried about her own nudity than she is about trying to decipher me. She is no helpless little angelic waif. She is a creature equal to me in many respects. She knows it too.


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