Wretched Love (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #1) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
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“I want to come with you inside me,” I pled, my voice a thin rattle.

Swiss didn’t hesitate. The second I uttered the words, his hands were underneath my back, positioning me in the perfect position for him to plunge into me.

I cried out, seeing stars as I came the second he seated himself fully inside of me. Swiss must’ve felt me clenching around him, he knew my body well enough to understand that I was coming apart. But he did not pause. Did not stop thrusting.

He didn’t give me a second to catch my breath, to find my bearings as his cock sent me over the edge once more.

“Look into my fuckin’ eyes, Kate,” Swiss panted.

I hadn’t even realized I’d squeezed my eyes shut. They burst open, Swiss’s face inches from mine.

“I love you.” His voice was unexpectedly soft.

The world stopped turning. My heart stopped beating.

I’d known that, of course. That he loved me. It was never a question.

But he’d never said the three words out loud. Not with the permanence that settled over me now. Not when he was deep inside of me.

“I love you too,” I returned without hesitation.

His eyes flared. “I’m never letting you go,” he grunted. “And as soon as we can make it happen, we’re gettin’ married.”

I blinked at him, trying to battle against the aftershocks in my body, the sex haze I was in to process what he’d just said. “Is that a proposal?” I breathed.

“Nope,” he clipped out the word. “You love me. You’re my fuckin’ world. Your scar is on me, mine on yours. Want you to be mine in every way possible. So we’re getting married. You can try to fight me on it.” His eyes were so intense, further enhancing the passion behind his words. “I welcome it. But it’s gonna happen. And I know you want it too.”

Without waiting for my argument, or for my agreement, he started moving once more. Fucking me into oblivion.

“I’m mad at you, you know,” I told Swiss when I was able to regain my breath.

It had surely been hours. It felt like it.

Swiss and I were naked, damp with exertion, tangled up in each other, both breathing heavily.

We were on the floor.

I was not exactly sure when we made it there, but there had been one part of the night when Swiss ordered me to bend over one of the chairs.

And things had gone horizontal from there.

I was tucked into his shoulder, staring at the ceiling, trying to regain my sense of balance even though I was lying on the floor.

My entire center of gravity had shifted. Something pivotal had changed inside me. Maybe inside both of us.

Sure, we’d had sex before. Many times before. But this was something other than that. It was a claiming. Not just by him but by me too.

It was the first time we had come together knowing every single piece of each other. It was the first time I’d had full ownership over my body. Over myself.

“You sure did a good job of communicatin’ that,” Swiss replied dryly.

Despite myself, I laughed. “Okay, well, I should be mad at you,” I amended.

His arms tightened around me. “You abandoned everything you should be the moment you decided to proposition me at a club party.”

My body tensed at the memory, the one that felt like it happened a lifetime ago. It still gave me butterflies thinking about it.

“I guess I did,” I snuggled deeper into him.

We lapsed into comfortable silence, for a time, at least. I wasn’t mad at him, not really. For a moment, maybe I had been. For forcing the separation between us just because he wanted me to be pissed enough to take charge. But then he didn’t really separate us. He had been with me, every single night. He had been right there with me, waiting.

“You didn’t…” I tried to find the right words. “When you… you didn’t—”

“When I came, I didn’t put my hands around your neck, strangling you until you almost passed out?” he offered.

I swallowed. “Yeah,” I whispered.

During the many, many times Swiss and I had had sex, it had always ended with his hands around my neck, squeezing until I saw stars, until my lungs burned. It was a kink of his, connected and born out of trauma, no doubt. But surprisingly, it had become a kink of mine too.

He stroked my arm. “Baby, I saw you lyin’ in a hospital bed with a tube down your throat, with your neck black from the evidence of that piece of shit tryin’ to end you.”

My skin prickled, his words corrupting what had been a perfect moment. But it wasn’t his words that were responsible, it was Preston’s actions. They had tarnished everything, changed everything. But somehow not entirely for the worst. Swiss and I were lying here together after the best sex I’d ever had in my life.


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