Torment Me Read Online Annabel Joseph (Rough Love #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Rough Love Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
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“Don’t,” he said once more, but he didn’t pull my hand away, and I couldn’t stop rubbing my clit. I wanted to come with him inside me, while I felt so full and used. I could feel him start to come. I heard it in his breathing and I sensed it in his jerking thrusts. I thought he wouldn’t notice if I climaxed at the same time, if I was really, really quiet. Oh God, it felt like heaven when I let the orgasm come. I clenched around his cock, gritting my teeth to stay silent. Everything inside me clenched and vibrated, and if I could have, I would have cried out with pleasure.

W pulled out of my ass while I was still pulsing through aftershocks. I didn’t care. I’d already floated away. I might as well have been wearing my blindfold, I was so lost in my little world. My hand curved over my pussy, petting it, soothing it.

“You don’t understand yet, do you?”

His voice was rough with anger. His fingers wove into the hair at my nape, and he wrenched my head to the side.

“Don’t hurt me anymore,” I said. “Leave me alone.”

“What the fuck did I tell you?”

“Not to come. Not today.” I yowled as he pulled my hair harder. I was starting to regret that orgasm I’d stolen, shattering as it was. “I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

He got up off the bed, grabbed his pants and pulled the belt from the loops while I ran toward the door. He caught me and shoved my face against the wall.

“Please don’t,” I cried, as he yanked my wrists behind my back. He cinched them together with the belt, and dragged me toward the bed with the tail. When I resisted, he wrapped an arm around my waist and carried me. I kicked and wriggled, but his arm was like a steel band. I wasn’t escaping him.

There was an orchid in a medium-sized pot by the window, staked to a long bamboo rod for stability. With his free hand, he yanked the rod out of the pot as we passed it. The bamboo was at least as thick as my finger.

He threw me face down over the edge of the bed, so my ass was in the air. I tried to yell no, and help, but he solved that problem by pressing my face into the covers until I stopped.

“Are you done fighting me?” he asked. “Because we can go again.”

“Fuck yo—” I tried to yell, at which time my face was shoved into the covers harder. This time he held me there until I ran out of breath, and I had to flail to be released.

“I told you very clearly not to come, didn’t I?” he said. “And you did it anyway. Stop fighting, because you earned this punishment.”

He yanked my hands up and braced his knee on the small of my back. The bamboo rod landed with a thud across my ass cheeks.

Owwww. Ohmygod. My legs kicked up as a sizzling line of heat exploded across my flesh. Before I could come to terms with the agony, another stroke landed above it, and a third stroke below. He stifled my howl of pain in the blankets, pulling my hair again. No, no way, the orgasm wasn’t worth this. If I knew I’d be getting this, I wouldn’t have done it.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The throbbing lines of torment built on top of one another, as he whacked a lattice of hell from the top of my ass to just above my knees. The blows came one after the other, and the only thing that kept me bent over the bed was his kneecap wedged into my back. I scratched at his leg, whenever he gave the belt enough slack for me to do it. “Please, stop,” I gasped.

“Beginning to regret that orgasm now?”

“Yes! I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”

“Next time I say no orgasm...” He gave me the hardest whack yet, so hard I couldn’t even find the breath to scream. “Then I mean no orgasm. Remember that next time.”

He left off, went back over to the orchid and jammed the bamboo rod into its former place. I watched this with a kind of traumatized wonder. No one would ever guess, looking at that potted flower and stake, that it had been used to cause someone so much pain.

“Oh, the tears,” he said, throwing up his arms. He went back to the table and downed the rest of his drink. I took the opportunity to finally curl up into that ball. My hands struggled within his belt.

“Let me go,” I sobbed. “Undo my wrists.”

“In a minute.” I felt the bed give as he came to lie behind me. “You need to calm down first.”

“I can’t. My ass hurts. And you’re not supposed to mark me! My other clients—”


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