Reparation of Sin (The Society Trilogy #2) Read Online Natasha Knight, A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: The Society Trilogy Series by Natasha Knight
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
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For a split second, she tries to look at me, and I refuse to let her. Dragging myself up, I seize her by the ankle and tug her along, her naked body sliding over the marble floor as she claws at it desperately, scrambling for purchase. That fight lasts all of a minute before she's twisting and flipping onto her back, her legs splaying apart in the chaos, baring her pussy as she tries to use her other heel as a brake. When my eyes move between her legs, she flails, trying to squeeze them together as if that act could save her from her indecency.

All of her fighting is for naught, and when we reach my room, she is breathless, too spent from the struggle over something so simplistic she has little energy left for what comes next. Her body bounces against the mattress when I yank her up and toss her onto it. Using the lengths of rope from when I tied her to my bedposts to tattoo her face, I push her face down and tie her hands behind her back and stretch her legs wide, securing the ropes to each ankle and forcing her onto her knees to keep her in that position.

"Santiago," she chokes out. "Just let me go. Just send me away. Please. I can't bear this hatred from you anymore."

"You will bear it." I lean down to look into her face, annoyed by her foolish request. "Because you earned it."

I unbuckle my belt, and she starts to cry in earnest as I slide it from the loops. She pauses her simpering to glance at me over her shoulder again, and I bark at her.

"Turn around."

"No."

"Very well." I offer her a cruel smile. "Have it your way."

I tug the pillowcase from the pillow and force it over her head, obscuring her face from my view. If I can't see her, I can't succumb to her tricks. Not anymore.

I retrieve the belt, gliding the leather edge along the curve of her hip before I fold it in my palms and crack the loop against her ass. She jolts forward, a scream piercing the silence as red blooms across her skin.

I crack the belt against her again, colliding with her thigh this time. Another scream erupts from her throat, and I savor that sound, creating a beautiful, haunting melody as a pattern emerges. The leather snaps against her skin, a trail of heat blazing over her swollen, red skin as I cover her ass, thighs, and calves with the evidence of my rage. Every time she tries to edge farther away, I yank her back, forcing her endurance.

She cries until her tears dry up and her throat is raw, and her ass is so sore she won't be able to sit for a week without being reminded of the consequences of her actions. But it isn't enough. It still isn't enough.

I can't look at her without a fresh wave of fury rolling through me. My breath is ragged as I loop the belt around the pillowcase covering her throat and latch it, leaving one end in my fist as I tug down my zipper with the other.

"You can’t even look at me," she clips out. “That’s why you’re doing this. You can hide my face, but it won’t change anything, Santiago. I can promise you that.”

"Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

I free my throbbing cock, jerking it in my fist as my eyes move over her pussy, and then up to her ass. I splay her apart with my palms, and she makes a strained sound in her throat as I slide my dick against her. Once. Twice. Three times before I circle her clit with the head, toying with her until she’s squirming against me unconsciously in half pleasure, half pain. Her ass is tender. I can tell when it brushes against the fabric of my trousers, and she whines. It’s a glowing red ember against my white knuckles when they graze her curves, and when I hoist her back up, her body begins to sag into the bed again. Exhaustion is wrapping its ugly claws around her, but I’m not even close to being done with her yet.

I slide my cock against her, smearing it with her traitorous arousal. Even when she hates me, she wants this. She’s as fucked up as I am.

I wrap my fingers around the leather belt end and tug, arching her head back as I slam inside her with one deep thrust. She screams, a shrill sound that vibrates my eardrums and rattles my cock. In and out, I slide against her, soaking my rigid dick with her arousal.

Her fingers curl behind her back, shoulders squeezing as she struggles to hold herself up without the use of her arms. I release the belt and she collapses again, panting against the pillowcase covering her face. When I slide my fingers against her, she arches into my touch, unaware she’s even doing it, but freezes when I circle the tight forbidden hole I have not yet sampled. I press against her with my finger, pushing past the barrier as she tries to jerk forward, out of my reach. My hand on her hip stills her, and I slide my finger in and out as she begins to breathe harder, faster.


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