Coerced Kiss (New York Underworld #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
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Her eyes grow round. She didn’t expect that. She either thought I was bluffing or that I’d protect her modesty by tanning her ass through her dress.

“You have two options,” I say, petting her shoulders with gentle strokes. “Either you take ten stripes, or I lock you up in my cellar and come back when I reckon you’ve learned your lesson.”

My words have the desired effect. Her beautiful face pales.

“What will it be, Anya? Ten strokes that’ll last thirty seconds or a few days in a windowless bunker?”

“I have a job,” she exclaims before adding like a threat, “People will ask questions if I disappear.”

“Of course I’ll let them know you came down with a bug. Poor darling. What kind of boyfriend will I be if I don’t let your employer know you’re incapacitated?”

Her nostrils flare. “You’re a … a monster.”

I utter a soft laugh. “We already established that. Can we move on to your decision now? I have a flight to catch.”

I don’t miss the hope that washes over her expression at the knowledge that I’ll be away for an undefined period of time.

“Anya.” I raise an eyebrow. “I’m waiting.”

She strains in my hold. “It won’t happen again. I won’t forget. I promise.”

“Sorry, tesoro. Actions have consequences. The sooner you learn this lesson, the better it’ll be for you. As it’s your first offense, I’ll only use my hand. Think of it like this—I could’ve opted for a paddle. A hairbrush works beautifully for that purpose.”

She glowers at me. “You seem well educated on the matter. Do you have a fetish for hitting women?”

“Not like you think.” I chuckle. “I’ll share a secret with you. You’re my first.”

She opens her mouth, but her gasp is silent.

I don’t give her time to ponder that fact. “Decide. I’m waiting.”

Clenching her jaw, she bunches the hem of her skirt in her fists. The act is an answer in itself, but that won’t do.

“Use your words, tesoro. Do you want a spanking or to be my prisoner?”

“Spanking,” she says through gritted teeth, cutting me into pieces with her gaze.

I click my tongue. “What was that? I’m not sure I heard right.”

“Spanking,” she spits out with a little more volume.

“Answer in full sentences, please. Do you want a spanking?”

“Yes,” she cries out with a frustrated huff. “I want a spanking.”

“Thank you,” I say, rewarding her by rubbing circles over her back. “You can go ahead now. Pull up your dress.”

She reluctantly lifts her skirt, her cheeks flaming as she exposes a pair of cute blue cotton panties with polka dots. I enjoy her discomfort, perhaps a little too much, and as if sensing it, she turns her face to the front and hides her expression from me.

That’s all right. The task that awaits demands all my attention. Anticipation builds in my gut. I imagine her naked and bound, kneeling at the foot-end of my bed, ready for my punishment, and the image nearly makes me come here and now. Who could’ve guessed I had such deprived cravings? Maybe it’s easier to let my imagination go wild with her. Unlike in relationships, I don’t have to care about her disapproval or her desires. I can do anything I like with her, and what she thinks about me doesn’t matter.

I take in the roundness of her ass and the creamy thighs she presses together. She has gorgeous legs. Her back is a sculptor’s wet dream.

“Higher,” I order.

Ever so slowly, she pulls her dress up an inch.

“Higher.”

Another inch.

“Keep on going,” I say. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

She pauses for a second before baring her lower back.

When she reaches her waist, I tell her, “There. Hold your dress up and keep your hands where they are, or I’ll add five lashes.”

She shifts her weight, brushing her globes over my groin. I swallow a groan. What she does to me, this slip of a woman, without even trying.

Giving her a foretaste of what’s to come, I prepare her for a more intimate touch by dragging my hand over her ass. She shivers at the light contact. I caress both cheeks, learning their shape and firmness with my palm. Instead of relaxing her, the soft exploration turns her stiffer than a wooden doll.

That’s enough. Now that she knows how my hand feels on her ass, I grip the elastic of her panties and pull them down to expose her naked skin. She shudders and drags in a sharp breath, but she doesn’t let go of her dress. She clings to the fabric with a newfound tension that draws her body tight. I won’t hesitate to remind her that she chose this, twisting her words and using them to my advantage.

I want a spanking.

Because I’m more than ready to deliver.

Leaving her with at least some of her modesty intact, I stop just before baring her pussy. I prefer to unwrap my gifts slowly. I like to make the enjoyment last. Her ass is even prettier than the picture I conjured in my mind, her globes round little melons and her skin pearly white.


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