Tears Like Acid (Corsican Crime Lord #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
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My tone is taunting. “Who says I’m angry?”

I give her a little leeway, just enough not to have to crane her neck. She watches me warily as I remove the silver box and Zippo lighter from my pocket. I take out a joint and tap the tip on the flat side of the box to compact the weed.

“You’re smoking again?” she asks.

I bring the joint to my lips. “Do you care?”

My question is layered. She must get the nuance, because she doesn’t reply.

She turns her face away from the flame when I light the joint.

I take a drag, filling my lungs with the smoke. The head rush is immediate. Lethargy settles over my senses, but it doesn’t dull the anger.

Blowing out a circle of smoke, I watch it fade like a halo over her head. My voice is deceptively soft. “Do you care, Sabella?”

She turns her face the other way, trying to avoid the smoke. “You know I don’t like it.”

“How about this?” I ask, cupping her sex. “How much do you like this?”

She goes on tiptoes, pushing with her palms on my chest. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” I taunt. “Perhaps you?” I’m being too honest. It’s the weed. It’s always loosened my tongue. But I can’t stop. “Maybe I’m getting addicted to your pussy. It’s a lot like smoking. Once you start, it’s difficult to stop. Maybe I should break the habit and fuck your ass tonight.” I rub my thumb in a circle over her clit through the thin layers of her clothes. “Will you like that?”

She clenches her jaw.

I pull my hand from between her legs and place my palms on either side of her body on the counter. A ribbon of smoke coils from the joint I’m clutching between my fingers, tainting the air with the smell of weed.

“Have you ever smoked, Sabella?”

She glances at me briefly before looking away again. “You know I haven’t.”

I bring the joint to my lips, take another drag, and blow out a thin line of smoke. “Perhaps you should. It’ll relax you, help you to spread for me and take my cock.”

More defiance sparks in her eyes when she finally faces me squarely. “I don’t need drugs to have sex.”

“Oh, but it can be so very different.” Using the hand in which I’m clasping the joint, I brush my knuckles over her nipple. “It heightens the senses. Makes you feel everything with more intensity.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “It sounds as if you’re talking from experience.”

“Don’t worry.” I caress the soft curve of her breast. “I only had hand jobs when I was high.”

She scoffs. “I’m not worried.”

“Because you don’t care,” I say, giving us both the answer she refused to tell me in words.

But she will care when I fuck her. She will care when she’s desperate to come.

Gripping her face in one hand, I hold her gaze as I take a long pull on the joint. I’m giving her defiance by disrespecting her wish, a request she uttered a long time ago, letting her taste some of her own medicine.

I don’t drag the smoke into my lungs. I apply pressure on her jaw, parting her lips as I lower my head and plaster our mouths together. She realizes my intention too late, gasping as I slowly blow the smoke into her mouth. She chokes on the lungful she swallowed with her gasp. I let her breathe, using the seconds to fill my mouth with more smoke before feeding her again.

I kiss her with a languid pace, molding my lips around hers and tangling our tongues. The objective is to fill her lungs with my second-hand smoke, but that objective quickly changes as heat builds between us. The burnt-out joint drops in the sink. I let go of her face to thread my fingers through the long, silky strands of her hair. She moans when I tug. Cupping her breast in my free hand, I knead the curve. Her nipple hardens against my palm.

Deepening the kiss, I push my knee between her thighs and kick her feet apart. I abandon her breast to explore the heat between her legs. She’s wet. I can feel it through her clothes. My onslaught on her mouth triples as I slip a hand into the elastic of her pants and thong. Her flesh is hot. Her pussy lips are plump and slick.

I groan into the kiss, rubbing my hard-on against her hip. Her moan reverberates in her chest. Too eager to think, I tighten my grip in her hair and work her pants with one hand down her hips to her thighs. My actions are staccato as I lift her T-shirt, exposing her bra.

She pushes my jacket over my shoulders, her urgency matching mine. I release her to pull my arms free, but my hands are back on her in a second, yanking on the cups of her bra. Her breasts spill over the lace. I close my lips around a nipple and suck the hard tip deep into my mouth. She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt as I lick her curve like candy. We’re groping and gasping, our need uninhibited and messy.



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