Damnable Grace Read Online Tillie Cole (Hades Hangmen #5)

Categories Genre: Biker, Crime, Dark, Drama, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Hades Hangmen Series by Tillie Cole
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
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Phebe moaned as I let go of her arm and yanked down her top. Her tits sprang free, and I cupped them in my hands. Phebe’s fingers snapped my jeans open. I broke from her mouth when her hand fisted my cock. “Fuck,” I snapped and lowered my head to take her tit into my mouth. Her free hand wrapped into my hair, pulling at the strands. I sucked on her nipple as her hand stroked up and down my cock.

Her breathing was fast and her skin was slick. I pushed her skirt up to her hips. I tore at the scrap of nothing of her panties, ripping them and flicking the ruined material away. My hand slid along her cunt and through her pussy lips until I met her clit. She cried out into my shoulder, then licked at my neck, lapping at my skin. I closed my eyes when her lips came back on mine and her tongue thrust into my mouth. She groaned and moaned and gasped as I took her fucking mouth, making the bitch forget the asshole from the alley and Vike.

The thought of her fucking with other men made my blood pound even harder through my veins. Pulling my hands from her clit, I bent down and took hold of her legs. Lifting her up was nothing at all. Phebe moaned and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I backed her up against the wall, then in one fast push, slammed inside her wet cunt.

“AK!” Phebe called out as her head tipped back and hit the wall behind her. I was a fucking man possessed as I thrust into her. Phebe brought her hands to my face and held me in place. She stared into my eyes as I worked my hips, biting on my lip at the feel of her hole choking my dick. Her moans were low and long. Her lips met mine. She fucking ate at my mouth, and I swallowed her cries. My hands gripped her thighs tighter as I drove into her. Her nails raked at my skin, but it only pushed me on.

I plowed into her, harder and harder, until I felt her pussy begin to clench. My balls began to ache, and I tore my mouth from hers, tucking my head into her neck. Her cries came louder and louder and her hips rocked faster against mine.

“AK . . .” she said, her voice no longer screaming and mad. Her breathy voice was cracked, losing all its anger. And then she came, breath hitching against my skin. Her hands slipped to the back of my neck, her nails drawing blood. With three more thrusts, I came inside her, jerking, sweat dripping down my back, her back scraping against the wall.

And then it all went quiet.

It was quiet, except for our breathing. Silent enough that I heard her crying before I felt the tears falling down my neck. I heard her crying before I felt her shaking in my arms.

I lifted my head, and Phebe tightened her arms around my neck like I was anchoring her. I blinked, not knowing what the fuck to do. As gently as I could, I brought my hand to her face and moved her head from the crook in my shoulder. Phebe resisted at first, but gave way when I said, “Red. Look at me.”

Her cheeks were flooded with tears, the pale skin marked with black from her eye makeup. Her red lipstick was smudged across her face. Her tits were out of her ruined top, and her hair was a mess.

She was breaking my goddamn heart.

“They will let me see her now,” she slurred quietly. “If I am successful, they will let me hold her hand.”

What the . . . ?

I brushed the tears off her cheeks with my thumb. She took hold of my hand with her shaking fingers and brought it to her lips, and I felt as though I’d taken a punch to the face. She stared at the broken skin on my knuckles from the fight, kissed over the smear of blood—I didn’t know if it was mine or belonged to someone else.

She dropped my hand and gazed at the floor. I stared at her downturned head, and fuck if I didn’t hold her that much tighter.

She was broken.

Lost.

Her words from earlier in the week circled my head. I didn’t know how long I stayed against the wall, just holding her. But eventually all the liquor she’d consumed took its toll, and her forehead fell onto my shoulder. Her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep.

I pulled out from inside her and fastened up my jeans with one hand. Phebe shifted in my arms, but she didn’t wake. I carried her through to my bedroom and laid her down on my bed. I pulled the comforter over her almost-naked body. When I looked down at her looking like some fucked-up lost whore, a piece of me died. The sleeves of her top were ripped, showing her scars from the needles. And now we were out of the bar, I could smell the scent of liquor evaporating in waves off her skin.



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