Cruel Beast (Dark Lies Duet #3) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Dark Lies Duet Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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“Don’t,” she whispers, fresh tears overflowing and ruining her eye makeup further. My cock twitches, and the beast she brings out, growls in appreciation.

“Did your father never tell you about reciprocity? See, you can’t make demands or beg me for something and expect me to fall in line when you refuse to offer something in return.”

“I have nothing to offer,” she squeaks.

“Bullshit,” I bark, thrilling at the way she jumps at the sudden change.

I stand and kick the chair aside, making her duck her head and cringe and weep. No doubt she thinks this will make me pity her when all it does is drive me onward, leaving me wondering what else I can frighten her into. I crouch before her, leaning in close, craning my neck to get in her face no matter how she tries to turn it away.

“Elena, Elena,” I croon, shaking my head and clicking my tongue in mock disappointment. “So much potential. We could have a lot of fun together, you and I.” When my hands land on the rope holding her in place, she jumps, pressing herself against the back of the chair. I run my hands over her arms, up to her shoulders, and back down again, noting the goose bumps pebbling her tawny skin and the almost violent way she shakes.

“Now, I’ll have to have fun all by myself, and I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.” I touch her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with the backs of my fingers before letting them trail down over her chest and between her luscious tits while she shudders.

“I think my name would look good right here.” I trace the letters slowly with my blade, leaving faint pink marks across her heaving chest. “E… N… Z… O,” I recite the spelling, taunting her as I do.

Her quiet tears have turned to weeping, and her shoulders shake from the effort. I lean in and touch my tongue to one of them, catching it before it can drip off her chin.

“Delicious,” I whisper, reveling in her disgust. All that does is make me lick the length of her cheek, catching the saltiness on my tongue. This is the daughter of one of the most feared marielitos in our world? It didn’t take much to break her.

Yet have I broken her if she still refuses to give me what I want? The question grates on my nerves, though not as much as the electric shock that runs through me when our eyes meet. I see her tears, her silent pleading. Her fear. Her pain.

And something else. Something beneath all of it, something I almost recognize because I feel it churning deep in my gut. Excitement? Anticipation? Could that be possible? No, I’m imagining it to give myself an excuse for pushing her harder.

It’s bad enough I’m hard as a rock, thanks to her whimpering and squirming. I don’t need to imagine her enjoying this on top of it.

7

ALICIA

“Don’t even think about trying any shit in here.” He throws me into a small bedroom hard enough to make me stumble and fall against the bed. He leaves a bottle of water and a protein bar on the nightstand while I shrink away from him, hoping he won’t hurt me. “My patience is already thin as it is.”

This is him when he’s being patient?

Turning his back to me, he walks out and slams the door. The sharp click of the lock tells me everything else I need to know.

I’m trapped. In this room, in this house, with these men. This man, who welcomed himself to touch me without my permission, made me cry and licked my tears. I knew there had to be something wrong with him before then, but that was beyond my wildest nightmares.

Still, locked in is better than tied up, I guess. It’s not like I expect him to let me wander freely, anyway. But something is chilling about knowing how few options I have.

I’ve got to find a way out of this. If the man is not going to listen to reason, I’m going to have to resort to something else.

But who am I kidding? He’s too strong—the way he threw me around like a rag doll just now is enough of a reminder of that.

And he’s cruel. Fucked in the head, completely. If he catches me trying to escape, what he’s done to me so far will look like nothing. I’m sure of it.

I have to try. This is only going to get worse. And if I can’t use brute strength, I’ll have to find something to defend myself with.

At least it’s a way to pass the time, searching the room from top to bottom. It’s not a big room, and there isn’t a lot of furniture. A bed, nightstand, and small dresser. There’s a window, so at least I don’t feel quite so much like I’m in a jail cell, but it’s high up on the wall, near the ceiling. No hope of opening it to escape, though I do try a few times to hop up and grab the sill. It’s beyond my reach, though.


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