Hateful Promise – Costa Crime Family Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Billionaire, Erotic, Mafia, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
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I cover my breasts with my arms.

“Shit. Sorry. I’m a mess. I’m on autopilot. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He doesn’t look away from my body, totally unashamed that he’s checking me out. “You’re beautiful.”

“Okay, big guy, go easy.”

He comes toward me. I stay rooted in place, shivering. Suddenly cold, despite the desert heat seeping in.

“I told myself I’d stay under control. I’m not sure I can hold myself to such a high standard.”

“That’s creepy and I don’t know what it means.”

He stops inches from me. Big, so big. Wow, what a big, beautiful man.

“You know what I’m saying, devil girl. I swore I wouldn’t touch you. I told myself I’d keep this professional.”

“If you’re about to cross some line, reconsider.”

“Would you like that? Really, would you want me to keep my hands to myself, Hellie? The way you’re looking at me now, I don’t think you do.”

He’s right. The asshole. I’m aching for him, deep into my core, my pussy pulsing wet with the thought of him peeling my arms back and licking my nipples. God, I have such sensitive nipples. They’re hard with excitement right now, and I have to keep them covered, or else he’ll know he’s right.

“I can’t control my actions. Sleep-deprived, remember?”

“Being tired isn’t the same as being impaired. You need a shower. Let me finish undressing you.”

“Erick,” I whisper as he steps closer, his hands on my hips.

Slowly, he tugs down the hem of my pants. They slide over my hips. I could reach out to stop him, but that would mean uncovering my breasts and showing off my hard-as-iron nipples, and that’s an absolute no-go.

I shimmy slightly, helping him as the pants come down, leaving me in only a pair of black panties.

He lets out a low purr. “Beautiful girl.” One hand reaches around and grabs my ass tightly, the other on my hip. “I’ll wash you with my tongue.”

“That won’t get me clean.” I want him to do it. Freaking hell, yes, lick me all over, every effing inch of me. Suck my nipples and fuck my pussy with your fingers. Make me come. “I should shower and sleep.”

He releases my ass. I whimper a little as his hand moves around my front. He backs me up until I bump into the wall beside the bathroom. “You should,” he agrees. “But you won’t.”

“Erick,” I gasp as his hand cups my pussy.

My warm, wet pussy.

“Oh, devil girl, I knew you liked this,” he says, his eyes burning. “You’re fucking soaked. My god, you’re dripping wet.”

“I’m not,” I groan as his hand slips down the front of my panties.

And fuck, that feels good. Oh my god, the slightest touch sends fire into my spine.

“Soaked,” he repeats, his big fingers gliding up and down my slit, teasing my lips, rolling around my clit.

Asshole’s completely right about that.

I’m so wet, I must be dripping into his palm.

“Physical response. I can’t help it.” I moan as his fingers sink in and back out.

“You want this. You want me to get you off, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. Asshole.” Also, fuck yes, please, please, please. “I don’t want anything but freedom.”

“Not even this?” His fingers drive inside me and I’m done, freaking done. I lean back, gasping with pleasure as he curls his fingers inside of me, slides back out, rolls around my clit, fucks me again. “Come on, Hellie. Tell me you want it or tell me to stop, but quit lying.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I bet you get off when girls struggle.”

“Go ahead and fight. You’re right, I’d only get harder.”

“Then fuck you.” I stare into his eyes. “You bastard. You piece of shit. I hate you.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.” His fingers slide inside again, fucking me.

I’m panting. Drooling. Barely mentally capable of forming a sentence as pure bliss rips into my body. “You’re a self-centered piece of shit. You don’t know—fuck—a thing about art. And you sure as—oh my god, damn it—you sure don’t know anything about me.”

“I know this,” he whispers, moving closer. “You’re about to come on my fingers. The second I kiss you, that’s all you’ll need. Think I’m wrong?”

“Fuck off.”

And he slams his lips into mine. That kiss, that goddamn kiss, his mouth is like honey and heaven, his tongue invades past my teeth the way his fingers fuck deep into my soaking, dripping pussy, and he’s right, the asshole, the bastard, he’s right. I come like thunder on his fingers, moaning into his mouth as we kiss, as I lick his tongue and suck his lips, I moan and come and when I can’t take it anymore, I push myself back, gasping for air.

He’s slow about finishing. Gentle even. His fingers come out and I’m left panting hard—still covering my tits as if it matters at this point. He steps back, staring. The outline of his cock strains against his joggers. Thick, long, and so hard I’m surprised he hasn’t torn through yet.



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