Saint Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #4)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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He waits for me to respond. Expecting me to argue, probably. When I don’t say anything, he shakes me.

“Do you fucking understand me?”

“I understand you just fine,” I snap at him.

He closes his eyes and rubs his nose in my hair, inhaling me. My stomach roils because he’s hard and his trousers are right there, and I know he has no intention of leaving here unsatisfied. This is a man who gets off on violence. A man in a position of power. A dangerous combination.

“Just between you and me, Ten,” he lowers his voice. “You altered me in a way I can’t ever get back. Ever since that night, it’s all I can think about. Your face in the dirt, the sounds of all those cocks inside of you. I get off on fucking dirty, filthy whores. And it’s always your face I see when I defile them.”

“Fuck off.”

I spit in his face, and he smashes his palm into the bridge of my nose. The pain is instant, and the blood is a fountain down my face and over my lips.

My body is still sluggish, flopping around like a limp doll when he lifts me up by the hair and slams me into the wall. His hands move over my dress, raising it up over my hips and grinding himself against me while he squeezes the flesh of my ass in his hand.

“You stupid fucking cunt,” he growls. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. Do you honestly think anyone would ever believe a word you have to say against me? You, the worthless street whore, and me… the upstanding agent. I could fuck you bloody and they wouldn’t even blink twice at your sob story. So, it would do you well to remember that from this point forward. When I say jump, you ask how high. When I tell you to get on your knees and suck my cock, you’ll give me the best fucking blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.”

He grips my hair at the nape of my neck and claws his fingers down my throat.

“Are we understood?”

I say nothing, so he slams my face into the wall. Everything is black and I’m on the verge of passing out and I have no choice because I can’t allow that to happen again.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I understand.”

He lets me go, and I crumple to the floor. His breathing is harsh, and his eyes are excited. Alive.

His zipper comes down and my stomach roils.

He grabs my hair again and tries to pull me up onto my knees. When my knees don’t cooperate, he kicks me in the calf to make sure that they do.

And then he’s got his cock out, rubbing it in my face. It’s happening all over again, and I want to kill him but I’m too weak and when I try to hurt him he hits me again.

There is no hesitation. He just keeps coming at me. And he gets off on my pain and now I know he is the monster that fucked up Kylie.

I need to get away from him.

But I’m dizzy and weak and I can barely form a coherent thought. When he squeezes my jaw and tries to shove himself in my mouth, acid lurches up my throat. And my body supplies its own defense mechanism. By vomiting all over him.

There’s a sound of utter revulsion followed by a harsh shove.

“God, you’re fucking disgusting.”

And yet all the while, he’s stroking himself in his palm. Getting off on the filth of it all. The revulsion he feels when he looks down at me.

It isn’t long before he tips his head back and lets out a groan, spurting his come all over my dress.

“Filthy whore.” He zips himself back up and straightens out his clothing. “Don’t think for a second those tricks are going to work for you. Next time, I’ll fuck you face down in your own vomit.”

He moves towards the door, only pausing to give me one last instruction.

“You have a week to make your decision,” he says. “Death or marriage.”

Six

Scarlett

Hell is empty and all the devils are here- Shakespeare

“Tonight’s initiation night,” Hanna whispers from the other end of the line.

“How do you know?” I feign ignorance.

“I got a note in my locker after school. It said I have to meet outside campus just after midnight.”

“Cool,” I tell her. “I hope you get in.”

“You’re going to get a note too,” she insists. “There’s no way with your family’s alumni that you wouldn’t.”

I don’t tell her that I already got a note, and I have no desire to follow up on it.

“I wouldn’t go anyway,” I say. “The whole thing is so archaic.”

“Are you kidding?” Hanna hisses as if it’s the worst thing I could ever say. “Ten, you HAVE to go. It’s complete social suicide if you don’t. Besides, what would your mother say if she knew?”


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