Perfect Villain (Dark Lies Duet #1) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Dark Lies Duet Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
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She looks so fucking beautiful from this angle, a mixture of trepidation and desire blending on her face. She leans forward a little, and I don’t even think she realizes it. My dick twitches at the thought of having her on her knees with my cock shoved down her tight little throat. From the imagery alone, I’m already thickening behind the fabric of my slacks.

I don’t give in to my need just yet because when I do, I want her to beg me for it. Only then will I fuck her like the beast I am.

Reaching out, I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, and her skin grows flush, her cheeks and neck visibly heating. The moment, as brief as it is, is firm and intense. Not once do we break eye contact, and I force myself not to yank out of that car and bend her over right here.

Siân stands without instructions, her body brushing up against mine ever so softly. And when she tries to wedge even an inch of space between us, I’m quick to wrap an arm around her thin waist. My fingers ache to feel her skin, and I don’t even try to stop myself. But neither does she.

Siân’s head falls back slightly, her mouth open as I cup her face between my palms. My hold is aggressive with my fingers digging into the nape of her neck while I rub my right thumb over her cheek. I skate my gaze over her, observing the change in her breathing again, and the lust building behind her eyes. A part of me expects her to break away, but she doesn’t. Despite how tight my grip is or how hard I pull her against my chest, she takes it, almost as if she likes it.

And when I tilt her head back and bring my mouth to her neck, she releases a soft moan of anticipation. She wants my lips on her.

Pointing my sights past her shoulders at the open field, I smirk and whisper into her ear, “Time to have some fun. Get behind the wheel.” I step away, pride filling my chest when she pushes out a disappointed rush of air.

“What? Christian.”

Grabbing her by the hand, I guide her to the driver’s side, put her behind the wheel, and kneel between her legs. The skirt she’s wearing rises up her thigh just a little, and when I place my palms on her bare skin, she nearly gasps. I knead her flesh, the primal urge to bury my face in her heat tugging at my control. And if I let that happen, I’ll ruin her, but now isn’t the time for that. Soon enough, I’ll know what the inside of her body feels like. I’ll know how she feels when she comes on my cock. Eventually, she’ll taste my name on her tongue as I fuck her body like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do.

“What have we said about taking risks?”

“I’m not driving this thing.” She points at the car.

“Yes, you are.” With one final squeeze of her thighs, I slide her legs into place and fasten her seat belt for her. “You can handle this,” I reassure her.

Siân’s shoulders slump, and she pushes out a breath. Back on my feet, I stroll to the passenger side and climb in next to her.

“I’m going to kill us,” she says, wrapping her trembling fingers around the steering wheel.

Her hands are shaking, so I reach out and place mine over hers. “Relax. This car has the best safety features, and the track is loaded with all sorts of precautions.”

Siân stares at me for a moment, but instead of protesting like I expect her to, she nods. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

A smile threatens to escape me, but I hold it in. “Adjust the seat. Do all your usual checks: mirrors, familiarize yourself with the gears.”

She swallows, adjusting her seat while doing everything I’ve suggested. “Okay.” She looks at me, uncertainty playing on her expression.

I take her by the hand, guiding her palm to the gearshift. Siân takes a breath and waits for me to instruct her. I watch her closely, enjoying the change in her demeanor. A second ago, she was scared, but it seems the moment she wraps her hand around the stick shift, she morphs into someone else.

With my palm firmly against the back of hers, I shift the gear. “Press the gas.”

Siân floors it, and we take off, our necks snapping back, pressing firmly into the seat. She hits the runway, whipping the Ferrari as if she’s been driving a stick shift her entire life. With little instruction, she hits the curve, the car drifting as she does. I snap my gaze to her, finding myself highly impressed.

The once scared and nervous girl is replaced with one who’s handled a car like this before. Interesting. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering who her father is. If she was raised anywhere close to the manner I was, then Marco would have taught her how to handle a stick shift.



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