Tears Like Acid (Corsican Crime Lord #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
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“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” I ask, my lips quirking.

“You asked.” She shrugs. “You don’t have to follow my advice.”

“We’ll see.” I hold her gaze as I take another sip of my wine. “Maybe I should let you earn commission on the deal. That’s to say if he accepts.”

She pulls a mock-serious face. “That would be fair.”

“If we really want to be fair, there should also be a punishment if I lose the deal because your tactics didn’t work.”

For the briefest of moments, her eyes flare with something akin to excitement. It’s not only the dare. The idea of punishment turns her on. We’re more alike than she cares to admit.

The playful ambience evaporates. Lust crackles in the air between us. A simple look, a single thought, and all I want to do is pull down her pajama bottoms and bend her over the table.

She must be picking up on my vibe. The red color of her cheeks, which could be attributed to a combination of the wine and the warmth of the kitchen, intensifies.

Her throat bobs as she swallows. Pushing to her feet, she says, “I better clear the table.”

I let her escape, not chasing after her when she stacks the plates and takes them to the counter. I carry the rest of the empty dishes to the sink. She rinses, and I pack the dishwasher. We work in silence until the kitchen is clean. When there’s nothing left to do, she blows out the candle and rests her ass against the edge of the table. She’s waiting for me to say goodbye and leave.

That was the plan.

Instead, I take her hand and draw her against me. Lowering my head, I brush my lips over hers. “Tired?”

“A little,” she says in a breathless voice.

I pull her behind me to the door. “Then come.”

She hangs back. When I look over my shoulder, she’s studying me with a frown.

“Come on, bella. It’s late.”

Relenting, she lets me lead her to the bedroom. We brush our teeth side by side in the bathroom like an old married couple. I go to the room and turn down the covers before getting into bed.

She hesitates for a second when she comes out of the bathroom.

“Come on, wife. I don’t bite,” I tease.

Her tone carries a tinge of bitterness. “Do I get to sleep in the bed?”

I pat the space next to me. “You more than earned it.”

Her back goes stiff. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, like sex is a currency, but there’s no denying that beautiful ugliness is our truth.

“Come,” I say, trying to be gentler.

She crosses the floor gingerly and lies down beside me. The question she’s not asking hangs in the air. She’s wondering why I’m staying.

To be honest, I have no idea. I only know when I pull her close and wrap my arms around her that this is exactly what I want. I’ll close my eyes, just for a while. I can always get up and leave in an hour.

Chapter

Thirteen

Sabella

* * *

I wake up in a cocoon of warmth. A solid weight anchors me to the bed. I blink my eyes open. My husband is spooning me from behind, his arms locked around my waist. The soft fanning of his breath is warm on my neck. The feeling is oddly pleasant. I’m safe and content.

I lie still, taking a moment to process the sentiments. It’s still new for me, waking up in the arms of a man. From the light that filters around the edges of the curtains, it’s morning.

He spent the night.

The fact both shocks and surprises me. I don’t know why I didn’t expect him to stay over. It just seemed unlikely. I assumed he’d go home to his own bed. It’s a strange notion, considering that we’re married, but then again, our marriage isn’t normal by average standards.

He stirs. The way in which his even breathing turns quiet tells me he’s awake. I close my eyes, pretending to be sleeping because I want to savor this comfortable warmth for a short while longer. He presses closer and tightens his arms. The heat turns into a different kind when his cock grows hard against the crack of my ass.

A perverse curiosity compels me to lie perfectly still. I don’t know him well enough to predict his actions. Will he wake me and demand sex? Or will he get up and sneak out without saying good morning?

Angelo doesn’t do either. He doesn’t shake me awake with verbal demands or slip out of bed. He simply grabs the elastic of my pajama bottoms and pushes the pants down my hips, exposing my ass. My breath catches in my throat when the smooth head of his cock nudges my opening. Before I have time to brace myself, he slides all the way in. I’m wet in a second, easing his way.


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