Truth or Dare (The Dominator #2) Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Dominator Series by D.D. Prince
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Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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“We’re leaving right after breakfast in the morning,” he said and for the first time since he got here, I think his face held no anger. He was beautiful.

I nodded, feeling my heart swell. The breeze blew my hair into my face so I pushed it out of the way and the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t help it but I think I dared to actually hope a little. Not a lot, but a little.

“Tonight, they’re insisting I attend a dinner and I don’t want you at my feet but it’s what they expect. And I don’t feel good about leaving you in the room alone for that length of time.” The anger crept back over his features.

I nodded, thrilled that being at his feet was not something he’d expect going forward, but feeling cautious at his expression.

“I get the impression it might get…” His face went sour, “sordid.”

I nodded, totally confused. Of course, it would get sordid. It usually did. Wasn’t that why he was here? I mean, some of the patrons were more exhibitionists and voyeurs than others, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for me to attend to someone who was more private about their sexuality, but with him being a partner’s son I guess I was a little surprised that this didn’t seem to be second nature to him.

“Has it been terrible?” He took my hand and rubbed his fingertips across the back of it.

I opened my mouth and wasn’t sure how to answer from my heart because I hadn’t allowed myself the luxury of digging in there in a long, long time and didn’t dare go there now for fear doing that would screw this up for me, so I said, “If I get to leave with you at the end of it, I’d do it again.”

He frowned at me and then shook his head. His eyes were the color of the sea. He had a handsome, strong jawline, a perfect nose. His shoulders were large and muscular. And his hair looked soft; it was in his eyes a little. I ached to touch it, to brush it away from his eyes with my fingers. I couldn’t cross that line, though. I looked away, needing to guard my emotions, so I stared out at the water. I felt his eyes stay on me.

“Build a sandcastle with me,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

I was speechless.

“C’mon.” He gave me a little smile and plopped his sunglasses on and then got onto his knees and started pulling wet sand toward us into a mound.

I was like a deer in the headlights.

“You gonna help or what?” He flashed a big smile and I think my heart stopped.

“I… I don’t know how.”

“I’ll be back. Wait here,” he said and took off jogging toward the grounds where he stopped one of the gardeners. I sat, flabbergasted. I was still in his sight, but we were far apart. It was weird to be sitting here in the sand alone. I’d never been so far away from a handler or patron. It felt weird and not in a good way. I felt vulnerable, at risk. I felt like I was gonna climb out of my own skin.

His shoes were in the sand beside me. I stared at them, focusing, his shoes are here so he’ll be back. He’ll come back. I clutched my bare throat and took slow breath after slow breath.

Thankfully a minute later he was back.

“I’ll take the lead.” He pulled me by the wrist until I was on my knees and I mimicked him, piling mud into the mound.

“That gardener is getting me some tools. Let’s see what we can do.” He gave me another little smile. He had bright, white straight teeth, gorgeous full lips.

I wondered what it’d be like to kiss him. Some patrons loved to kiss. Some had been quite skilled at it. Some, not so much. Some were downright sloppy and gross. But until right now I’d never looked forward to a kiss since being here. I was hoping my Master was a kisser and hoping he was good at it. This might be the only man I’d ever kiss again.

I needed to do something with my hands. I wasn’t the type to sit around idle and there wasn’t anything for me to do in this place, this place of excessive sick and twisted fuckin’ hedonism. The resort had activities but most of it was either sex-centered or at least stomach-turning from what I’d seen on my tour because guests had women in collars on the floor beside them while on the treadmill or playing cards or whatever they were doing.

I didn’t want her around those sick fucks and I didn’t want her alone in that room. Why? I didn’t know, but I felt protective of her, that it wasn’t just my mission to come here and suss things out, but that it’d also become part of my mission to get her away from them, get her and I out of here without a hitch.


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