Ruby Tears (The Jewelry Box #1) Read Online Pepper Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: The Jewelry Box Series by Pepper Winters
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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He admitted it.

He’s a cop.

My shoulders slouched with unmeasurable relief, but then I tensed again.

The thought of him electrifying me? Of being inside me? It was easy to say I wouldn’t fight when there was no one around and he wasn’t hurting me, but how would I cope out there? With so many men leering? With so much greed and filth swirling in the air? How long would I last in the pantomime when panic rose and preservation commanded I retaliate?

I didn’t know.

I couldn’t predict my reactions.

But…this wasn’t just about me.

Peter, Kirk, Rebecca, and all the other slaves I’d yet to meet had been here years. They’d endured for years. They’d survived for years.

They’d had no one, and now…they had Henri.

I asked a final question.

A question I didn’t really want an answer to. “You’re telling the truth…that you’ll enjoy it?”

He jerked on the spot. Flicking another look at the cameras, his entire demeanour bristled, but then, in a blaze of twisted honesty, he pressed his lips to my ear. “Yes.” He swallowed hard. “I wish I could tell you I’m repulsed at the thought of hurting you, but… I’ve been honest from the start, and I’ll stay honest for as long as I can. The things I will feel when I’m hurting you will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will enjoy it, I will want more, I will fight myself every second of every damn day, and…I also know whatever I end up doing to you, I’ll pay for a thousand-fold. Don’t think I won’t get my comeuppance, Ily. I will. Believe me.”

“Because of karma?”

“Something like that.” He sighed. “As long as you don’t fight me, we can get through this. Together.”

Together.

Such a comforting and condemning word.

“Just…promise me someone is coming.”

His jaw clenched; he looked away.

But then, he nodded. “Someone is coming.”

“In that case, do whatever you need to do. Do whatever it takes to save the jewels.”

His mouth suddenly crashed on mine.

His body crushed me against the spines of so many tragic, romantic stories.

The kiss was violent. Vicious. Stealing my breath and kicking my heart with connection.

As quickly as he’d kissed me, he fisted my hair, marched me to the centre of the library, then kicked my feet out from beneath me.

I cried out as I landed heavily on my knees.

My palms smarted as he shoved me forward.

And my ears rang as he stomped back to the towering shelving, selected a leather-bound volume thick enough to be used as a doorstop, then marched back toward me.

Chapter Fifteen

………………………….

Henri

GODDAMMIT, I HAVE GOT TO stop kissing her.

Every time I slipped, her taste burned deeper into my psyche. Every press of our lips, I slid farther on the slope of wanting something I couldn’t have.

Never again.

No more kisses.

No more whispers.

No more truths.

She’d promised me she wouldn’t fight.

That was enough.

With her in on the ruse, I could act like them, fuck like them, abuse like them, all while Ily trusted that every bruise I gave her was for the greater good.

The greater good?

Shit.

Why did that make me feel so seedy? So dirty?

She thinks you’re a cop.

I stood behind her with a book in my hands. A book I had no intention of reading, ready to play my part.

She’d promised to play with me.

And in return, I made her a silent vow.

I would never kiss her again.

No matter what I did to her.

No matter how many times I had to fuck her, hurt her, make her sob and beg and cry, I would never steal another kiss.

Never allow such intimacy to form.

Never let her think I was redeemable.

This was a business arrangement…nothing more.

A kiss was for lovers.

For hearts and souls and ever afters.

We were not lovers.

Fuck, I didn’t have the words for what we were.

Whatever we’d become, we were bound by a common goal, and as long as we stuck to those rules, then whatever I did to her would be exonerated and explainable.

I could hold my head up high when Q came blasting through the gates and pretend I hadn’t broken. I’d found a way to prove I deserved him and his family, all while playing a slippery game of truths and lies.

She thinks I’m a cop.

The repeating thought wriggled like a pestering worm.

She’s only on my side because she thinks I’m a cop.

That tiny white lie was the only one I’d told.

It wasn’t my fault she thought I was a better man than I could ever be. My intentions were still honourable, even if my method was…questionable.

I had her permission to bruise her.

Her consent to fuck her in order to play the role of saviour.

So what I’d just manipulated her by allowing her to think I was law enforcement?

So what she thought SWAT would pour over the battlement at any moment, bringing righteous rain-fire?

Just because I hadn’t corrected her didn’t mean our truce wasn’t justified. I still intended to save her and the other slaves. I didn’t need a badge or a uniform to do that. I had something better—a half-brother with untold wealth and cutthroat connections.


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