Touch of Hate Read Online J.L. Beck, Cassandra Hallman

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
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It feels foreign and slightly uncomfortable, but my arousal makes up for it.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring down at me. “So wet. I can smell it from here.” The hunger in his voice is promising, but he doesn’t so much as lower his head for a lick. Instead, he picks up the control knob and twists it.

“Oh. My. God.” My head falls back, eyes closed, when a light vibration begins rumbling between my thighs, inside me. It feels so incredibly good and painfully miserable at the same time.

“Please,” I whine. “It’s good, so good, but not enough to push me over the edge.”

Ren simply smiles knowingly before pulling the vibrator out and holding it to my clit. The orgasm hits me so fast and unexpectedly that, for a moment, I’m so overwhelmed by it that I worry I might pass out. I’m still coming down from my release when I feel the vibrator back in my pussy.

“This will keep you feeling good for now, and the next orgasm is going to be ten times stronger than this.”

Did he just say ten times? I blink my eyes open, the veil of pleasure still heavily draped over them. The orgasm I just had isn’t doing much to quench the thirst for more.

Even when I squeeze my legs tight, it’s not enough sensation to do the trick. It’s only enough to keep me close to the edge, to make me writhe and moan with mindless lust.

“You stay put, angel.” His lips ghost against my clammy forehead, his voice barely audible under my pitiful cries begging for relief. “And remember, only I can make this stop. I’m in control. Isn’t that right?”

Only one word comes to mind, the only word I know right now. “Yes!” I nearly shriek—a sound that ends on a sob when I hear him chuckling as he exits the room, leaving me to my helpless misery.

16

REN

“Ren... Ren, please...”

I close my eyes, my back to the wall outside the doorway. On the one hand, the sound of her pitiful pleas is music to my ears. How long have I been starved for the sound of her voice, much less the sound of it when it’s raised in helpless abandon?

On the other hand, I don’t dare look at her. Those moans are enough to start me twitching and lengthening mere minutes after I came. Already, I’m prepared for more action.

That’s the effect she has on me. That’s the power of my need for her. My hands ache for the feel of her under them, and my dick longs to test the tight heat of her dripping pussy. Just the thought of it leaves me shuddering, now using the wall to keep myself upright.

“Oh my god!” She’s stuck on the edge, straining for that extra bit of sensation that will push her over and into relief.

Do it. Give that to her.

Not while I’m like this, with my hunger as strong as ever. I would only end up hurting her. I haven’t left her—both of us—waiting this long for it to turn out that way.

Besides, it would mean giving her what she wants. Setting the precedent that all she has to do is beg long enough, and everything she desires is hers. I’m not doing that. She’s not the one who calls the shots.

Which means I’m stuck with my body on fire, my every impulse and heartbeat devoted to her. Squeezing my eyes closed as tightly as I can, I will away the tempting mental images stirred to life by her constant, guttural moans.

This is not going to work.

There’s only one solution that’s ever come close to doing the trick. All the long, lonely nights where even jerking off to the memory of her wasn’t enough. When the idea of breaking into her apartment and taking her all at once seemed like a logical solution to my constant state of arousal.

Closing the bathroom door at least muffles the worst sounds still coming from the bedroom. Turning on the shower helps, too. I can almost pretend she isn’t mere feet from me, that she didn’t beg me to fuck her minutes ago. She has always been my greatest weakness, but never more so than now when she’s here, at my mercy, with nothing and no one standing in my way.

I strip down quickly, in a hurry to get this over with. I’m well acquainted with the unpleasant sting of what feels like countless needles drilling into my skin—I would only do this for her. Stepping into the shower, I have to grit my teeth, letting out a growl of pure agony at the first touch of icy water against my overheated flesh. It leaves my heart racing, my entire body reacting to the sudden shock. Everything in me tells me to jump out of the tub, but I force myself to stay where I am, controlling my breathing, focusing on getting through it until the sting lessens, and I begin to adjust to the sensation.


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