Coerced Wife (New York Underworld #2) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: New York Underworld Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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“You’re going to lie real still,” he says, wording the command like a warning, “and continue being a good girl for me.”

The fact that he’s not asking isn’t lost on me. He’s telling me what’s going to happen.

I swallow against my fear. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Will you stop if I tell you to?”

“No,” he says without as much as blinking. “That’s not the point of tying you up. If I restrain you, you give your control to me and trust that I know what’s best for you.”

“What about a safe word?”

His lips tilt in one corner. “I’m not into the kind of kink that plays by the rules.” He adds with meaning, “Not with you.”

“What if I don’t want it?”

He bends down and sucks a nipple into his mouth, inviting a gasp when he swirls his tongue around the aching tip. “I know what you want, and I know what you need.” He lifts his head and looks at me with something like wicked sympathy before promising, “You’re going to love everything I’m going to do to you.” His order is brusque. “Stay.”

He gets off the bed and walks to the dressing room with the ease of a man who’s comfortable in his naked skin.

My heart keeps beat between my ribs. I’m both apprehensive and excited about this new game. If I were wise, I’d never let him make me that helpless, but he does things to me, pulling me deeper into his darkness and corrupting me a little more with each passing day.

He returns a short while later with some of my silk scarves in one fist and a black velvet bag I know only too well in the other.

My cheeks heat at the sight of my vibrator.

“You did go through my things,” I say when he stops at the edge to the bed and drops the bag next to me.

He only smiles, not bothering to deny the accusation. He works quietly but efficiently, tying my wrist to the bedpost with one of the scarves before doing the same with my ankles. When he’s done, I’m almost spread-eagled, having both my legs and one arm secured while keeping one hand between my legs as he ordered. The silk is soft enough not to cut into my skin, and the knots are loose enough not to stop my blood flow.

He steps back and studies his work. My gaze is drawn to the thick length of his cock that’s already rock-hard again. My heart pounds a little faster when he opens the nightstand drawer and takes out a box.

“I like your toys,” he says, “but I got you a new one.” He opens the box, showing me something that looks like a butt plug, only bigger. “This will fit snugly in your pussy, keeping my cum in when you climax for me.”

I gasp when I understand what it’s for.

“Don’t worry, treasure. You’ll take it without difficulty. It’s not as big as my cock.”

I lick my dry lips when he brings the toy to the center of my legs.

“You can move your hand now.”

When I oblige, he positions the bulbous head of the plug at my opening, wiggling it to part my folds before slowly pushing it inside. The head slips in first, stretching me in the most delicious way. The rest glides in easily, but it’s a tight fit. Once it’s fully lodged inside, he makes quick work of tying my free hand to the other bedpost, and then I’m completely at his mercy.

“So pretty,” he says, admiring the toy in my pussy. “You’re stretched wider than with a dildo. You’re going to come hard, my treasure.”

He opens the black bag and shakes out the contents. My gaze snaps to the gel when he picks it up.

“No.” I shake my head. “Not the gel.”

Shit. I forgot about that. How could I have forgotten it was there? Because I haven’t needed a vibrator since Saverio came into my life.

“I’ve been dying to play with this,” he says, uncapping the tube.

“Sav,” I plead, because the gel is vicious. I only use the gel when I already have my vibrator switched on in my hand.

He clicks his tongue. “Patience, baby girl. How does my cum feel inside you? Is it hot in your pussy, filling you to the brim?”

The ache between my legs increases, the throbbing relentless. It’s his dirty talk. He knows what it does to me.

I hold my breath as he squirts a blob of gel on his forefinger, bringing it to his nose and smelling it before rubbing the cold liquid with circular movements into my clit.

I lift my hips, chasing the friction, but as soon as he’s covered the nub with the gel, he denies me his touch.

Fuck.

The effect is instantaneous. The gel works as a stimulator, swelling and heating my flesh. It’s as if all the blood in my body rushes to that single point. I twist in my bonds, seeking the release I can’t find without the ability to close my legs.



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