The Revenge (The Insiders Trilogy #3) Read Online Tijan

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Insiders Trilogy Series by Tijan
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 110273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
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I didn’t want his control.

I hated his control, and I wanted to push him over the edge. I suddenly thirsted for it, desperate for it, and my legs locked around his waist.

Before he could do anything, I shoved a hand between us and pulled him out. My hand wrapped around him once, rubbing him. I lifted my hips. My shorts were whisked off, and I sank down, sheathing us together.

He cursed, reacting instantly. His mouth was on mine, hard.

Our movements weren’t coordinated after that. There was too much rawness and realness brimming to the top. I commanded him. He demanded me. His thrusts were rough, almost violent, but it’s what I wanted. It’s what I needed. It sent me spinning, feeling alive, and I was gasping for breath as he continued fucking me.

He crushed me against the wall.

I knew there’d be abrasions over my skin from the pool side. I. Did. Not. Care.

I only felt him.

The climax tore through me, making me feel as if I broke my back with its force, and I cried out, my mouth tearing from his. A scream erupted from my throat, and then more, as Kash wasn’t done. He grabbed my hips and stood, carrying me farther into the shallow end of the pool, which had a gradual slope in and out. He moved until we were almost out of the pool, then covered my entire body with his. I had to grab ahold of the pool side to hold my head up so I could get air, but then his mouth was on mine and it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Then again, when I was with him like this, nothing much mattered anyway.

After he came, roaring, his body stiffening, jerking, I ran a hand down his back. It was meant to be soothing, but he knocked it aside. “No,” he growled, his mouth opening over mine once again. And just like that, I was swept up again.

* * *

I grew aware of a door opening, closing.

Something was covering me, warming me.

A beep.

We were moving.

Another beep.

Someone coughed.

Feet were shuffling.

Then a door opening, and a voice saying, “Do I ask?”

Even half asleep, I heard my brother’s tone. He was amused, but there was a hint of concern there, too.

Kash’s arms tightened around me, his voice sounding from just above where my head was resting against his arm. “Do I ask about you, too? I know you just got home.”

We were moving past Matt, so I tried to open one eye. I saw movement. He was straightening, but then we were past him.

His voice came from behind us, and sounded tired. “Let’s just say I’m thinking we both needed to work out some demons tonight.”

Kash stopped, his arms becoming like cement. He turned and ground out, “You didn’t.”

Matt just laughed in response. It was harsh and caustic sounding. “Don’t throw stones, Kash. We’re all a little dark inside. God’s sakes, I know you are.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Yeah.” Matt sighed, his voice growing faint. “Just don’t hurt my sister, okay? I’m not meaning in the bedroom, either.”

A door closed after that.

Kash remained still before his chest rose, lifting me in its movements, and his head bent. He murmured against my ear, “Go to sleep. Your brother’s okay.”

That was enough.

My eyelids cemented closed, and I woke once more to bedsheets and a hard body curling behind mine. It was like heaven.

TRIAL SET TO START FOR QUINN FRANCIS

Quinn Francis, who has reverted back to her maiden name, Callas, is set to begin trial this coming Tuesday. Her defense team is ready and eager to prove Ms. Callas’s innocence.

“Miss Callas was wrongfully convicted. She is the victim of a series of complex and interweaving false narratives being spoken from the entire Francis family. She’s better off away from them, even in her particular setting. She would take being charged with kidnapping and attempted murder over remaining in that household, and that says everything.”

More to come for this story.

—Inside Daily Press

EIGHT

Bailey

I had lost time.

I know, I know. I was grieving. I had to mourn. But seriously. I. Lost. Time.

Kash was so far ahead of me, and I hated that. I woke the next morning when he was already at work.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

I started, my knee slammed up against the table.

Ah. Crap.

I scrambled, reaching, but nope. There went my coffee. It spilled over the entire breakfast table.

“Crap, crap, crap.” I reached for some napkins, throwing them over the pile of hot liquid, and began dabbing. I was trying to smash that liquid with a fervor like no other.

Matt was frowning next to me. “Uh. Bailey?”

I almost had all the coffee soaked up. “Huh?”

“You’ve got half that mug running down your chest.”

I looked down, and that’s when the sizzling seeped through. I screamed, running from the table. “Crap-shit-shoot crap-shit-shoot crap-shit-shoot—”

“Okay.” A wet washcloth smacked me in the center of my chest. A strong hand was behind it, and I looked up to Marie’s frowning face. Her other hand was on my shoulder, holding me firm as she soaked up the rest of the coffee from me. She moved me back into my chair, but in a whole gentle way that was authoritative at the same time. “Relax. Your coffee was lukewarm, if even.”


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