Bleeding Hearts Read online A. Zavarelli (Bleeding Hearts #1-2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bleeding Hearts Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
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“Of course I would.” I quivered. “You can’t drag other people into this. That wasn’t part of the agreement…”

“I know.” He toyed with my lip. “I’m not going to do anything, Brighton. There are very few things I don’t know about you. That was one of them.”

“Oh.”

I really didn’t know what to say to that. What we were doing was already so intimate. And yet he wanted to get into my psyche, uncover my darkest secrets. But why? It was unfair. I didn’t know anything about him at all.

He went to move away, and I pulled him back, gripping his forearm.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Please what?” his voice was colder now. More distant. But I wasn’t going to let it scare me. I wouldn’t let him win this game. I needed to figure out who he was, by any means possible.

“I don’t even know what you look like,” I said.

“You didn’t want to,” he retorted. “That’s the thing about actions and words. Once they are said and done, they can’t be taken back.”

“Just let me… touch you,” I pleaded. “Let me see you in the only way that I can.”

There was such a long pause, I wondered if I’d made a mistake by requesting such a thing. But then he rolled over, taking me with him. When he relaxed, I was straddling him, and my palms were flat against his shoulders.

“By all means,” he bit out, “touch me, Brighton. But don’t think you’re fooling me for a second.”

I swallowed the strange lump that had formed in my throat and started with his hands. They were much bigger than mine, and I had the sudden realization of how much he could hurt me with those hands if he ever wanted to.

I tried not to think about it as I felt my way down his forearms and up his biceps. Right away, I concluded these were the arms of a working man. Either that or someone who spent a lot of time in the gym. He was warm and hard everywhere I touched, even in his relaxed state. But that changed when my hands glided over his chest. It wasn’t just muscle there, it was something else too. I ran my fingers over the jagged skin several times before I understood they were scars. And when I touched them, his entire body stiffened.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“That’s enough.” He slid out from beneath me and pulled away.

I landed in an unceremonious heap on the bed, expecting him to leave. There was a familiar shuffling as he dressed himself. And when he clasped his belt buckle back into place, it had the strangest effect inside of my belly. Warmth.

That warmth was swiftly carried away when he wrapped something rough around my wrist.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He didn’t respond. He simply pulled whatever it was taut before walking to the other side of the bed, repeating the action on my other wrist. By the time he was through, both my arms were strung high above my head. I couldn’t move them at all when he stepped away, and my skin prickled with sweat.

“Do you remember when I asked you earlier if you were ready to be redeemed?”

“Yes.” I gulped.

“Well guess what, Brighton?” he snarled. “There isn’t anything you could ever do to be redeemable in my eyes.”

It was the last thing he said before he walked out of the room.

Chapter Nine

I woke with puffy eyes and a splitting headache.

Every inch of my body groaned in protest when I tried to move. My arms were so weak I thought they were numb. That could be the only reason I didn’t feel the awful pain in my shoulders and wrists.

All night I had struggled to get free. My wrists were chafed and probably bloody from the rope he used to tie me. I was humiliated and terrified. I was certain he was going to leave me for the hotel staff to find in the morning.

But when I moved my arm again and nothing protested, I sat up slowly. The blindfold was still on, and I tore it off, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness of the room. The clothes I’d worn to the hotel weren’t there, but on the table across the room sat some shopping bags and a silver tray.

I limped across the carpet, feeling the discomfort in every step. I’d never been so sore.

When I reached the table, I found a note.

Brighton,

You looked too beautiful to wake this morning, but I would like another photo today.

Oh, and don’t make any plans for next weekend. You’ll be spending it all with me.

The paper fluttered from my fingers as I collapsed into the chair with a groan. I could barely walk after one night with him, and now he wanted an entire weekend. And how could he call me beautiful when he’d just left me tied to the bed last night after his cruel parting words? I didn’t understand it at all.


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