Love Like Poison (Corsican Crime Lord #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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He takes less time for himself, his movements efficient and economic. I’m absorbed in studying his actions, in having this intimate glimpse of a man’s grooming routine, so when he pushes me down onto the bench and kneels in front of me, I’m taken by surprise.

Holding my gaze, he cups my knees and pushes my thighs apart. The water runs over his head and down his back, making his dark hair look blacker and slicker than oil.

“What are you doing?” I ask, gripping his shoulders.

He observes me from hooded eyes as he lowers his head and buries his face between my legs. The soft press of his lips on my clit makes my eyelids flutter closed. When he parts me with his tongue and traces the seam of my opening, my hips lift off the bench of their own accord.

“Does it feel good?” he asks.

I open my eyes. Angelo kneeling between my legs is one of the hottest sights I’ve seen. Despite the fact that he’s the one on his knees, he looks powerful. Scary. As if he holds my future in his hands. As if he can either give me pleasure or break me at his will.

“This?” He licks my clit, making my toes curl. “Or this?” He gives my opening the same treatment.

I moan. “Both.”

“You didn’t come when I was inside you.” There’s vulnerability in his words. A tinge of uncertainty. “Did I not last long enough?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you normally come?”

Frowning, I try to pull away, but he holds fast, keeping my legs spread.

“Why do you want to know?” I ask.

“We’re not done. I didn’t get you off.”

“Are you pretending to care about my pleasure?”

His smile is chastising. “I don’t do things in half-measures.”

“So, it’s about your ego and not—”

He clamps his lips down on my clit before I can finish my sentence. What I was going to say flies through the window as he nips before sucking.

It only takes a few seconds. I come so hard it feels as if an electric current is running through my body, convulsing my muscles. In the back of my mind, I’m worried that he won’t like my taste, but I’m too zoned out with the aftershocks racking my body to give it another thought.

Sitting back on his haunches, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sets my mind at ease with, “You’re a real treat. I can get addicted to eating your pussy. How hard did you come?”

I’m too lethargic to answer, which is an answer in itself.

Satisfaction sparks in his eyes. “Next time, bella, we’ll come together.”

I want to say there won’t be a next time, but he’s already scooping me up in his arms and putting me on my feet. He turns off the water and grabs a towel from the rail that he drapes around my shoulders. After drying me and squeezing most of the water out of my hair, he leaves me on the rug outside the stall to dry himself off.

This is the version of Angelo I got to know during the first year after we’d met, the broody and Byronic man who’s kind and gentle with me. Only, deceiving and using someone isn’t kindness.

I make to turn for the door, but his words stop me.

“Don’t move.”

He drops the towel and picks me up.

“Put me down,” I say.

“Are you going to make fighting me a habit?” He walks to the bed and dumps me on the mattress. “There. Happy?”

Pulling the duvet over me, I try to cover my body, but he yanks it away, climbs onto the bed, and crawls over me. His heat is intoxicating. The touch of his skin against mine is soothing and soft. Warm. I want to curl up in the safety of his strong arms, but I can’t forget that we’re enemies. I can’t forget what happened, not when I turned seventeen and not what we just did.

He hovers over me, studying my face.

“We’re done,” I say. “You got me off. Why aren’t you leaving?”

An unfriendly smile plucks at his lips. “We’re not done by a long shot, cara.”

“What do you still want?” I ask, tired—no, exhausted—and in no shape to fight clever or with words.

“Plenty. Starting with making sure you understand that if you ever lie to me like that again, I’ll take my belt to you, and I won’t be playing. The welts I’ll leave on your pretty ass will be the proof.”

“Anything else?” I ask with sarcasm.

“If you do manage to evade Roch and fuck another man in a dirty alley, in a public toilet, on the backseat of a car, or any-fucking-where else, I’ll kill Roch for failing in his job. Then I’ll go after every man who laid a finger on you.”

He can’t be serious. “You’re out of your mind.”


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