Ruby Tears (The Jewelry Box #1) Read Online Pepper Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: The Jewelry Box Series by Pepper Winters
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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Ily closed her eyes, blocking out the bright light and the shadows of monsters watching us.

I wanted to whisper to her. Console her. But I had nothing to say.

The sooner I’d taken her, the sooner she could wash me away.

Get it over with.

Now.

Clamping one hand on her hip, I pulled her back, lining her up with the crown of my cock. The tip of my erection glistened with pre-cum, shiny and red.

Fisting my base, I squeezed.

Merde.

The telltale ripple of pleasure shot down my spine and into my balls. A couple of strokes and I would blow.

Quick.

It would definitely be quick.

A mercy then.

I’d fuck her fast, and tomorrow, once Q arrived and this was all over, I would never see her again.

Something viciously painful twisted in my chest.

Fuck her.

Before someone else shoves you aside and does it for you.

Dropping my eyes to her wet folds, I swayed forward on my knees. Pushing my cock against that secret, dark hole that promised such nirvana, I lost my ever-loving mind.

Her forehead furrowed as my crown breached her.

Her hands balled in their belt-confinement, wedged against her lower back.

Two twitches. The only signs of her discomfort, but they were goddamn kryptonite. Knowing she fought her tendency to refuse me. Knowing she might allow me to enter her but was still unwilling.

Jesus Christ, it was almost worse than her outwardly fighting me.

Breathing hard, I unwound my fingers from my base. Gathering up the reins in one hand and clamping her hip with the other, I tugged her back as if she were a mare needing to be halted.

She trembled as I widened my stance behind her.

I couldn’t whisper. Couldn’t warn. All I could do was be there with her. To feed her my body while I took hers, connecting us in a feral, unspeakable way.

“Ride her then!” someone yelled.

“Do it!” A man chuckled. “Don’t have all night.”

A single teardrop slipped free from Ily’s squeezed eyes. It shimmered in the corner, blocked by her nose.

Her silent struggles set my blood on fire.

Her sad sorrow poured fuel onto the flames.

Rearing up, I notched a little deeper.

She sucked in a shaky breath.

Her wetness smeared and welcomed.

And that was all I could stand.

Digging my fingernails into her flesh, I added pressure to the leash in her mouth, and then I…

thrust.

Hard. True. Exquisitely deep.

Goddammit.

She cried out as I mounted her.

She moaned as I speared all the way.

Her pussy rippled around my cock.

I lost all reason.

The tip of me hit the top of her, our heartbeats snapped into sync, and…

it

was

over.

I didn’t try to hold myself back.

I didn’t try to last.

I fisted the reins, cut all my restraints, and rode her like a motherfucking bastard.

Hard, fast, unforgiving.

Thrusting, taking, rutting.

Grunts echoed from my chest.

Fireworks gathered in my belly.

I raced toward the finish line with no thought for her pleasure.

This wasn’t sex.

This wasn’t lust.

This was survival.

My climax percolated in my lower belly, siphoned up my cock, and threatened to spill. The sharpness of desire didn’t just burn me alive; it cindered everything I was into ash.

My chin fell forward.

Heat gathered in my shaft.

Ily moaned around her gag but didn’t stop biting down.

My pace increased until my hips pistoned like a demented creature, driving every inch inside a girl who didn’t want me.

I’d thought I wanted that. Thought I’d craved that. Thought I’d never be able to get off without the intoxicating ownership of utter ruling.

But with Ily bound and subservient, taking my cock without a single complaint, I didn’t know what I fucking wanted anymore.

Pain, yes.

Authority, definitely.

But not this.

Not this…sadness.

Not this broken kind of surrender.

Fight me.

The plea echoed in my soul.

Go to war with me…

Squeezing my eyes closed, I threw myself headfirst into my release before it could fade beneath choking desires.

I rode her and rode her, pumping quick and fast as my entire body reached its breaking point.

I bulldozed through my orgasm.

I came apart as I ruptured inside her.

I roared on the first spurt. Choked on the second. My spine rolled as I kept coming, forcing all of me inside her as I poured hot, thick fluid into her for the second time.

And she didn’t make a sound.

Not a single peep.

She checked out, went cold, refused to open her eyes.

And I motherfucking hated it.

I wanted her alive.

I wanted her sparring and scrappy and angry.

I wanted her fury to spark my fury.

I wanted more.

Yet all I received was a silent receptacle for my cum, and the moment I finished, I withdrew, shoved my wet cock back into my pants, then bent down and snatched her from the stage. The reins fell from her teeth as she gasped in surprise.

Disgust prickled on the back of my neck.

Shame dripped like icy slush on my shoulders.

Her grunt as I flopped her naked body over my shoulder punched me in the gut. With her hands still bound and her legs dangling down my front, I cursed that Victor’s guests would have a bird’s-eye view of her bare ass and the wetness smeared between her legs.


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