Blackmailed Marriage Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
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Slowly, his body pressed against hers, they were flush together, and something changed within her. At first, she thought she was going to panic, but then suddenly, that all evaporated, and she felt the length of his body against hers. It was nice. Strange.

And all too soon, the kiss had come to an end.

Dante pulled away, and she stared up into his brown eyes. They had the same eye color, but her husband’s eyes were slightly darker, more intense, at least to her.

She knew it was the perfect time to make her escape, and she did, running right back to her bedroom.

****

Dante hadn’t meant to listen in on Aria’s phone call. It had been the last thing on his mind to even consider. But, he couldn’t help being curious about who she was talking to. He should have known it would be her sister. After listening for about a minute, he had every intention of disconnecting his line, and allowing her to have privacy.

Then the conversation of sex came up, and he listened. He’d never been considered a bad man in the sack. There were a lot of women who would kill for a chance or two to be with him.

He wasn’t used to this feeling.

Dante knew he had gone out of his way to make Aria’s first experience miserable. Her virginity had gotten in the way. It was going to be painful that first time. Since then, he’d not once tried to do anything to please her. Other than coming to perform his duty, he didn’t do anything. His instructions were always the same. To be bent over the bed, no underwear, and nothing to get in his way.

Aria didn’t know how good sex could be, and she didn’t want to know.

Dante’s lips tingled as he thought about that kiss he’d taken just a few hours ago. Rolling over, he looked at the clock and saw it was a little after two in the morning. Sleep was not coming, and he knew it was because he didn’t like this. He’d never doubted himself before and he was used to women trying to gain his attention.

When it came to his wife, he’d done absolutely nothing to help her enjoy sex.

It’s not your job to do this.

You hate her.

Aria’s the enemy.

And that pesky side of his brain reminded him that Aria didn’t have a clue what her father attempted to organize. She was told who she was going to marry. Like him, she didn’t have a say in any of it.

Shoving his blankets off, because now he was pissed, he was going to head downstairs to his office and have a stiff drink. Something strong, like his best aged whiskey. He did have every intention of going downstairs, but then found himself stepping across the stairwell, and within minutes, he was outside of Aria’s bedroom door.

This was the one she chose. He told her when he brought her home, to just pick a place, and to leave him the fuck alone. He didn’t even know if she had chosen this room on purpose. It was furthest from his own bedroom.

Go back to bed.

Open the freaking door.

Dante gripped the door handle, twisting it. He’d done this plenty of times in the past eight months, and by plenty, at least eight times. Every time she was supposed to be at the prime of getting pregnant.

He’d gotten used to having to use lubricant to make her wet. Aria had never been turned on by him. Like him, she’d been doing her duty, and she had done so without a single complaint.

She had proven time and time again to be a good wife. Without argument, she was ready for the parties he told her they were attending. She always stood in the corner of the room. Vile whispers traveled and he heard what people said about them, and he didn’t care. He was more than happy to allow people to dig their own graves. If anyone said anything to him directly, their punishment would be swift.

To help torture her and make her life miserable, he pretended he couldn’t hear them. He wanted her to live in hell. But now he didn’t know why.

He walked into Aria’s room, closing the door behind him, and looked toward the bed. There was a small night-light on that cast a soft glow in her bedroom and made it possible for him to see Aria. She looked so small, so fragile.

He wanted to close the gap between them and wake her up, so he could rid himself of these feelings. Dante moved toward the bed, intent on forcing her to wake, to say something, to remind him that she was Phillip Lewis’s daughter, who had trapped him in this situation.

He’d never seen her sleep. Closing the distance toward the bed, he couldn’t help but look down, and her face was … relaxed. At peace. This, he wasn’t expecting. Aria often possessed a furrow between her brows. She always had a frown on her face. Troubled thoughts.


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