Lessons Learned (Mission Mercenaries #1) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Action, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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“You can’t,” she argues.

“I’ll do anything with my pussy that I want. It’ll serve you well to just accept it now. It’ll save you a lot of pain.”

Her head rolls, the pillow bunching up under her cheek. “Never.”

Chapter 36

Lauren

I woke up minutes ago, but I refuse to open my eyes.

I don’t want to risk that last night was a nightmare.

What happened was the nightmare. I fucking loved it. I can feel his abuse all over my body. I throb from head to toe.

But what if none of it is real?

I know it physically happened, but the thought of what he said being another manipulation? I don’t know if I can handle it.

I shove down those familiar thoughts I always get when things go my way or I get things I want.

He used the word deserve last night. He said you deserve the pain you get.

He didn’t say it in a way to hurt me. It was him saying that it’s okay to want what I want. That I shouldn’t feel ashamed for needing the things so few are capable of providing.

It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

And even as I lie here, refusing to open my eyes, I want to believe him.

I’m a fan of being manipulated, of being surprised. Disappointment is sort of a kink for me as well, but I don’t think I’d survive if I discovered he didn’t mean it, that it was one more sick way to cause me pain.

Those are heart matters, the promise of keeping me. They have the power to fucking destroy me more than anything physical ever could.

Knowing I can’t put the truth off any longer, I let my eyes flutter open.

The room is different than it was when I was here before. Rather than the curtains being drawn, they’re open, along with the blinds, allowing sunlight to flow into the room.

The furniture is nothing spectacular—a bed, a dresser, a side table, but none of the shadows that were lurking around remain.

My throat threatens to close at the sight of the cold Diet Mt. Dew sitting beside a couple pain killers on the bedside table. I don’t recall ever telling him I loved the drink, but I’m also not surprised to see it sitting there.

I groan with discomfort as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed before reaching for the drink.

The cap is sealed which is a little disappointing because it means he’s not going to drug me.

It also means I’m going to have to face him with all my faculties. For a flash, I think I’d rather chew broken glass, but I know we have to face each other.

But then I swallow, wondering if he’s going to be gone again.

He swore he’d chase me to the ends of the earth, but I imagine he’d say anything when he was eight inches deep inside of me.

I pop the pills, taking a long swig of the soda before noise somewhere else in the house grabs my attention.

I’m torn between wanting to avoid him and wanting to run to him and beg him to tell me that what he said was true.

With a sigh, I stand and slowly peel away the ripped clothes from my body. In an effort to annoy him because his room is pristine, I leave them in a pile on the floor. If he thinks I’m going to obey him or do what he wants, he’s sadly mistaken.

The threat of him correcting my sloppiness sets my skin on fire as I open the bedroom door.

The scent of maple bacon wraps around me as I creep toward the kitchen. He doesn’t have music playing or the television on like any other normal person would. He doesn’t stiffen or show any other indication that he knows I’m close, but I’m not convinced that he isn’t well aware of my presence.

“I was wondering if you were going to get your sweet ass out of bed or if I was going to have to eat it all myself.”

I try to hide the smile sweeping across my face, but it’s impossible.

“I didn’t realize you were such a pussy.”

He turns a little, looking at me over his shoulder. His eyes sweep the naked length of me, and it takes a lot of power not to preen at his perusal. There’s no denying the need that flashes in his eyes, and it’s almost strong enough to make me clench my thighs together.

I point to his boxer briefs when he doesn’t say anything. “Afraid of getting a little bacon grease on your dick?”

His grin is quick, a little sinister, as he looks from the pan and back to me.

I have a sudden urge to run as tears burn behind my eyes.

He fucking notices because the man is an expert at reading people. He turns off the burner, moving the pan to the back of the stove before prowling toward me.


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