Taunt Me Read Online Annabel Joseph (Rough Love #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Rough Love Series by Annabel Joseph
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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“Don’t dare,” he said, tugging it open. He bent one edge of each clip until there was enough space to slide it onto my nipple. It pinched the tender flesh into a flat, painful shape.

“It hurts,” I said. “Please! Why are you so mean? I gave you a blowjob.”

“And then you bitched and whined because you didn’t get what you wanted in return.” He tweaked each of the paper clips. “Now you get punished.”

There was a tap at the door. I reached up to cover my breasts. He took my hands hard and lowered them again. “Yes?” he asked.

“Your three-thirty appointment is expected in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” he called out. “We’ll be in the conference room a few minutes ahead of time.”

The receptionist went away. I let out the panicked breath I’d been holding. “It hurts,” I said again.

“As much as nipple clamps?”

Not really as much as nipple clamps. I just felt exposed and ashamed.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “I’ll take them off before we head to the meeting.”

Thank you, God. I wouldn’t have put it past him to make me wear them the whole time he met with his clients. I cringed, looking down at my reddened nipples and my ruined bra. I’d have to wear my jacket the rest of the day. This was why I’d insisted on the no-sex rule in the office, because he took shit too far. “I don’t know why you do things like this to me,” I whispered.

“I do them because you need me to do them. How does your pussy feel right now, with those clips on your nipples?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t even describe how wrought up I was, how tormented and fucked up and horny. I placed my palms flat on the desk to keep from stroking myself through my skirt. “Please let me come.”

He leaned closer, and forced me to meet his gaze. “Tell me you belong to me, bad girl. Say it. I’m yours.”

“Will you let me come if I say it?”

“Don’t make me smack your fucking face. Say it.”

My nipples throbbed from the clips. My pussy was about to explode. “I’m yours,” I said, my voice trembling with the hell of denial.

“That’s why I don’t let you come every time,” he said, tracing a manicured fingertip over the paper clips. “Because you’re mine, and I get to decide. Because you’re my beautiful, horny fuck slut, and I have the control, and right now I’m not going to let you come.”

“Will you let me come later?” I asked. “Please?”

“I’m going to punish you later, Chere, for being a mouthy, horny brat. I think we ought to start having regular lessons in surrender. You need them.”

I squirmed in my chair. Regular lessons in surrender sounded like hell. “Please. I’ll be good.”

“I think I’ll take you to my apartment after dinner. There’s more equipment there.”

In all this time he’d never taken me to his apartment, but now that he was inviting me to visit for this ‘lesson in surrender,’ I didn’t want to go.

“I have plans with Andrew,” I lied. “I’m not sure I can make it tonight.”

“You’re going to make it tonight.” He flicked my aching nipples one last time and walked to his drafting table, and leaned over the set of plans for his three-thirty meeting.

“You’ve got five more minutes to go,” he said when I heaved a melodramatic sigh. “You fucking brat.”

Chere

He ordered me to sit on a couch in his silent, darkened living room until he was ready for me, then he disappeared down a hallway. No tour of the apartment, no after-dinner cocktails, no clicking on the TV. Maybe this was part of learning to surrender, having to sit here and worry with my heart pounding in my chest.

I looked around, trying to calm myself. Finally, I was able to see his world, his lair, the apartment he retreated to after he finished tormenting me. The soaring space was a showcase of design and understated elegance; I would have expected nothing less. The furniture was old-world, heavy and varnished. The leather couch I sat on probably went for twenty thousand bucks, if not more.

The end tables were thick, polished wood. A similarly furnished dining area opened up on the left, and beyond that, I suspected, a jaw-dropping kitchen. Bookshelves lined the opposite wall, perhaps laden with all his poetry anthologies? I didn’t dare leave the couch to investigate. It was a beautifully welcoming residence, I just didn’t know why I’d agreed to come here. Had I temporarily gone insane?

Not temporarily, Chere. You’ve been insane for almost three years.

I heard him in the hall. He returned and beckoned me. “I’m ready for you now.”

Oh, fuck. I’m ready for you now. Price didn’t do the fun, playful power exchange people engaged in at the BDSM clubs. This was twenty levels higher, and I knew his lesson on “surrender” would be twenty levels higher as well.


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