Nate Read Online Free Books by Celia Aaron

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“Were you this inhospitable to Nate?” He spoke in my ear. “I don’t think so.” His hands ran down my back and squeezed my ass as the elevator shot upward.

I wanted to knee him in the crotch, but my legs were pinned together by the zip tie at my ankles. My mind screamed, “Get off me!” But my dry throat wasn’t able to push a sound past the handkerchief. Not that it would’ve mattered.

The elevator stopped. Dmitri released me when the doors opened, and his men dragged me into a magnificent penthouse with stunning views of the city. Two armed men stood guard at the elevator, and a handful of Dmitri’s goons were scattered around the main living area and the open kitchen. My heart sank. There was no way I’d be able to get past all of them.

“Take her to my room.” Dmitri strode toward the kitchen while I was dragged down a dim hallway and into a large bedroom.

At the foot of the bed with black sheets, two small cages sat. Inside one, contorted into a painful fetal position, a woman with blonde hair and light blue eyes stared at me. She was naked, her eyes feral, and no recognition sparked in them. But somehow I knew, maybe through some connection that I could never understand, that she was my mother. Seeing her like this cut a new hole in my heart, one that I feared could never be repaired.

His men shoved me to my knees next to the empty cage. One reached under the bed and pulled out a length of iron chain with a shackle at the end.

The other cut my zip ties and grabbed a handful of my hair. “Snyat' odezhdu.”

Strip her. I cringed back and put my hands in front of me to defend myself. The man with his hand in my hair wrestled his arm through my elbows and held me still as the other one stripped off my jeans. I pressed my knees together, refusing to let this happen to me. Tears burned in my eyes as the man ripped my legs apart and peeled first my jeans and then my panties off.

His eyes focused between my thighs, and I kicked at him, nailing him in the jaw with the side of my foot. He roared and grabbed a handful of my shirt, yanking it forward. The seams burned along my skin as they pulled apart, the fabric no match for his brute strength. He did the same to my bra, stripping it off me with calculated violence until I sat naked, tears streaming down my cheeks.

He licked his lips and reached for the shackle. I tried to kick again, but he grabbed my calf and squeezed until it burned. Then he affixed the cuff to my ankle. When he was done, he sat back and stared at all the parts of me he didn’t deserve to see.

The man holding my hair released me. “Poyekhali.”

Let’s go.

The one who’d stripped me shook his head and pointed at me, arguing in Russian. The words were garbled, but the meaning was all too clear. He wanted to hurt me in the worst way possible. But the other Russian warned him that Dmitri would kill him when he found out. The threat worked, and the brute backed off before reluctantly following his comrade from the room.

When the bedroom door shut, I collapsed and hugged my knees to my chest. My entire body shook as my fingers roved to the shackle and my ankle. Get your shit together, and get out of here. My inner voice sounded a lot like Nate’s. Maybe he was coming to save me. Maybe he was storming up the stairs to the penthouse right that second. But that wasn’t a risk I could take. I needed to get out of here, and I needed to do it fast.

I sat up and peered at my mother through the bars of her cage. “I’m Sabrina.” Crawling closer, I tried to reach the simple bolt on her door. “I’m your daughter.” If I could slide it open, she’d be free.

She didn’t look at me, only tucked her head tighter against her knees.

“Mom.” The word felt alien on my tongue. The shackle dug into my ankle as I reached for her cage. My fingers slipped off the bolt. I pulled farther, ignoring the pain in my ankle, and slid the bolt free. The gate swung open.

“Mom, you can come out.” I scooted back toward the bed and yanked on the chain. It was latched to something underneath the sturdy wood frame. Turning back to my mother, I found her in the same position she was in when the door was shut. “Mom!”

She finally looked at me, her light blue eyes glassy and vacant.

“The door is open. I need your help.” I shook the chain. “If I can get free of this chain, you and I can leave here together. Just come out.”


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