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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He started to move, sliding in and out of me and igniting a dormant furnace inside of my belly. The sounds were flowing freely from my mouth now, and there was no stopping them. He’d reduced me to nothing more than an animal as he gripped my hips and plunged deep inside of me, his pelvis slapping against my ass cheeks.

“Do you like that?” he grunted.

I whimpered but didn’t respond.

He leaned forward and cocooned his body around mine, baring his teeth against the soft part of my throat. He dragged them along the skin and clamped down, making me buck against him as pleasure and pain warred inside of me.

He soothed the sting of his bite with a kiss and then moved his lips to my ear.

“I like to take it out on you.”

His words jolted me into a state of violent convulsions as I exploded around him, held up only by his arm around my waist. When I thought he’d squeezed every last ounce of pleasure from my body, he started to thrust harder.

“Nooooooooo,” I begged when his hand found my clit. “I can’t.”

He didn’t listen. I sobbed when the pressure stirred inside of me again. It was too much. It was too little. I was going crazy while he toyed with me. Blood roared in my ears and spots flashed in my vision. I knew it was coming. I didn’t know if I would survive it.

When the first piece of leather cracked across my back, I knew I wouldn’t. The onslaught of pain and the intensity of my second orgasm made everything else around me cease to exist. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but nothing came out. I was certain he’d just flayed me wide open and poured gasoline into the wound. I was still spasming beneath him, but I couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or pain. They were one and the same now.

It took me a full minute to realize that I was gasping for breath, but no sound escaped my lungs. When the second piece of leather sang through the air and exploded against my skin, I jerked on my restraints and fell forward. This time, there was enough air in my lungs to force a guttural sound from deep inside of me. It vibrated through every corner of the room, and it was so feral I couldn’t believe it had come from me.

Undiluted pain invaded every cell of my body as he struck me twice more. When the endorphins finally rushed into my blood stream, a ravenous hunger for more uncoiled from deep inside of me.

He struck me again and again, propelling me into another dimension. This was worse than a coke binge. Worse than black tar or the thrill of E. This was the devil himself snaking his way inside of my heart and bending me to his will. This was addiction, quickly morphing into obsession. And somewhere in the clouded fog that was my brain, I knew this was a game I was going to lose.

It went on forever. And even when he had bottomed out inside of me and filled me with his release, I didn’t want him to stop. I sagged towards the floor like a limp noodle, and he panted against my back. His heart beat savagely against my skin, echoing my own.

I was vaguely aware of a sting, but when he peeled himself off me, I crashed and burned. The high I had experienced only moments before disappeared as pain licked along my nerves like fire.

I hissed in a breath, and my captor leaned down to whisper in my ear.

“I wanted to break you, Brighton. I never expected you to like it.”

A sob escaped me, and the dam broke. I didn’t know why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop. What was happening to me? What had he turned me into? And why did it always feel like he was punishing me?

He released the restraints around my wrists and pulled me into his arms. He held me against his chest and rocked me back and forth as if I were a small child. I didn’t fight him. I should have. But he was the only source of comfort I had, and I clung to it instead.

He kissed my tears away and whispered sweet words into my ears. Words he was too afraid to say out loud. He told me I was beautiful. That I was perfect in every way. And that, unconditionally, I was his.

Chapter Twelve

I tried to roll away from the heat penetrating my sore skin, but an arm wrapped around my waist, pinning me in place. I was still wearing the blindfold, and I wanted to tear it from my eyes.

He was cuddling me after what he’d done.

As if he cared about me at all. What a joke.


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