Dark Knight (Torrio Empire #4) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Torrio Empire Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
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Because he needs to know, I add, “Jeff emailed her yesterday. Empty threats, obviously. That’s why I’m doubling down now.”

“That spineless motherfucker,” he growls. “And he’s avoiding my calls, the bastard. It’s easier to bully a young girl.”

“That’s exactly it.”

“Make sure she knows she has nothing to worry about.”

“I’m doing my best.” My best isn’t good enough. It never was, it never will be.

“And as for those old ghosts,” he adds, and his voice is even tighter than before. “Turn your back on them. Let them go. They have no place in your life now.”

“I know, you’re right.”

“Does she know about any of it?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course, she doesn’t. She doesn’t know the first thing.”

“For all I know, the two of you sat up talking one night, and you told her everything.”

“Talking isn’t something I do much of, and she doesn’t care to listen.”

“I should’ve known better. I’ll review the plan you sent and get back to you, but you know you have all my confidence.”

He couldn’t have picked a worse way to end the conversation. I need to let go of this guilt. It’s going to eat me alive if I don’t.

Rather than head downstairs to work out, I settle for push-ups on my office floor until my arms are jelly. I can exhaust my body and forget the excitement of wanting and being wanted. How long can a man deny himself what he wants most? How long before he cracks? It doesn’t matter. There’s got to be a way to get through the rest of our time together without totally fucking everything up.

Eventually I lose count, finally collapsing in a puddle of sweat that’s dripped from my chin once my muscles are past the point of exhaustion. There’s something about a hard workout, the sense of wiping the slate clean, clearing my head. At least, that’s how it usually works.

Now? Even though I’m lying here, dripping sweat, breathing hard, arms like jelly, I can’t wipe away the memory of her moans. Her tight body moving against mine, stirring up every dark, dangerous impulse imaginable. There has to be somebody around here I can fuck to get the need out of my system. I’m not feeling particularly picky – I have no room to be when so much is riding on my ability to control myself. Any wet hole will do at this point.

Right away, I see how pointless it is to consider it. What do I do, leave her here at home? Right. Why don’t I call Callum and tell him what type of casket I want. That’s not going to work. I’m stuck fucking my fist until we’re out of here and I return to some semblance of a normal life.

Fucking my fist while remembering the way she begged me to touch her. All the need in her voice, the desperation. She would’ve crawled over broken glass if it meant getting her lips around my cock.

I’m only human. How am I supposed to forget that? How do I pretend she never offered herself to me like that?

Her pleas echo in my memory as I walk down the hall and retreat to the bathroom. The TV is on downstairs—a laugh track echoes up the stairs. How much longer can either of us live like this? What I wouldn’t give to go back and do all of it differently. This was never going to work. Not for either of us.

Especially not if even the first sting of icy water isn’t enough to soothe my need. I force myself to endure it for a count of ten before it’s obvious my hard-on isn’t going anywhere, so I turn up the heat before leaning against the tile wall with my eyes closed.

It’s not only about claiming her. I need to break her down. I need her on her knees, looking up at me with those big, green eyes full of fear and desire. I need to know there’s nothing she craves more in this world than the feeling of my cock inside her.

I’m hard as steel and practically dripping by the time I give in and take myself in my fist, seeing her in front of me. “Touch me, Romero.” A groan stirs in my chest and my strokes pick up speed. I’ve been pushing aside dark, dirty thoughts and memories all day, and it takes no time for my pent-up desire to become a raging inferno blazing in my core and working its way through my extremities until there’s nothing but sensation. Sweet, all-encompassing sensation while I imagine doing all the things I could never attempt in reality. Not the way she is, how broken she feels.

There are no such limits in my imagination. I can hold Tatum in place with a hand around her throat while I pound her pussy until tears leak from her eyes. I can fuck her face while she gags on me. She’s not such a mouthy brat with my cock down her throat, is she?


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