Sapphire Scars (The Jewelry Box #3) Read Online Pepper Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Jewelry Box Series by Pepper Winters
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Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
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I wore his cum.

I had his scent all over me.

With a breathless groan, he withdrew, tripped backward, and fought hands that no longer worked to stuff his spent erection into his black slacks and buckle up.

Twisting upright, I sat primly on the edge of the bed.

A wet patch soaked into my dress, matching the silvery trails of my arousal glinting on the black fabric over his fly.

He caught me looking. “Told you your juices were all over me.”

I smiled, embracing the flood of possession. You’re mine. My body says so.

He nodded and placed a fist over his heart. Forever.

“Come along, little nightmare.” Snatching my wrist, he dragged me off the bed and carted me toward the door. “Time to party.”

A flood of moisture oozed hotly down my thigh.

I cringed.

He wrenched open the door and laughed at my screwed-up face. “Bit of a mess down there? Maybe if you’re a good girl tonight, I’ll lick you clean.”

I stumbled.

He caught me.

He whispered into my ear, “You still with me, mon cœur?” (My heart.)

I caught his gorgeous grey eyes.

I fell into even deeper feelings. “Always.”

He shivered.

I smiled.

Together, we descended into a night where ghosts and demons came out to play.

And hoped we’d still be alive come morning.

* * * * *

“Something doesn’t feel right, jaanu.”

I spun and caught Peter behind me.

He shifted on the spot, pressing his lips to my ear. “Victor has a smug look in his eyes. It’s giving me the fucking creeps.”

I shot a glance at Victor laughing with Roland across the room.

Slim and tall, with his own dark cape, Victor looked like a distinguished art gallery curator or slightly eccentric benefactor. The mask cutting his face in half hid a lot of his sins, but Peter was right.

His navy eyes seemed particularly pleased, kind of pompous actually.

“Come.” With a quick look at Henri who stood talking to Ben and Stewart not far away, Peter snatched my cuffed wrist and dragged me into the alcove draped with white netting that’d been hung on all the walls of the Great Hall.

For two hours, we’d mingled, all while I did my best to forget about the stickiness between my legs. Henri kept giving me knowing glances as Masters ate, drank, and grew merry.

Victor had spared no expense.

The Great Hall travelled almost the entire length of the east wing. Its polished parquet floors, sweeping high brimstone and devil painted ceilings, and hundreds of stained-glass windows made it seem as if we truly were in hell. Each stained-glass window depicted some sort of erotic carnage. From women skewered on a spears, to girls burning at the stake. Each one died a slow, painful death all while being fingered, fucked, or whipped.

The scenes were so barbaric, so brutal, I hadn’t been able to eat a thing.

Interspersed amongst the sickening windows, Victor had ordered his decorating team to drape white and black swathes of material on every wall. The black absorbed the candlelight flickering from the many candelabras while the white glittered like stardust.

I still couldn’t figure out his theme, but every Master wore the same black cloak as Henri. The same black tourmaline mask. The same aura of grim reaper gliding around the room sipping blood-red wine and laughing as they tormented their jewels.

The jewels…

If Victor had intended to make them seem like angels, he’d succeeded.

Every one of us wore the same white gossamer fabric. The girls in wispy petal dresses with trains long enough for Masters to stomp on, and the boys in trousers and shirts so fine and sheer, the shadows of their bodies were visible, teasing bastards to touch.

I looked up at Peter’s face.

His matching mask of crystals glittered with rainbows, casting pinks and greens over his lips.

I hated that we hadn’t had much time to talk.

I missed him even though he was standing right there.

I wanted to tell him I loved him but…I had a feeling that would hurt him too much. Not because I had such deep feelings for him but because those feelings were purely platonic.

He was my friend and soulmate. Just like my brother.

If I hadn’t found the missing part of my soul, then perhaps we would’ve ended up as a couple.

But…in this life, this incarnation, I was Henri’s.

Do badan, ek jaan: two bodies, one soul.

My gaze drifted from Peter’s handsome face to the swollen welts on his chest, glowing red beneath his angelic white shirt. “Oh, Paavak…I’m so sorry.”

He flinched and rubbed the lashes as if he could erase them. “I’m fine.”

“Who hurt you?”

“Branson’s back. But don’t fret—”

“Bastard.”

I wished tonight was Christmas not Halloween.

I wanted to leap forward two months and stop him from ever being abused again.

“I can give you the rest of the arnica tablets I took after Emerald Bruises. They really helped heal all my paintball marks.”

He smiled distractedly and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t drag you here to talk about my injuries—”


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