Saint Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #4)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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“Ye’re the only woman in the world who smells this way.”

It doesn’t sound like a compliment and his voice is odd.

He’s trying to ice me out and fuck him.

My fingers reach around his waist and down to his shorts. But he grabs my wrist and pulls it away.

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore,” he says.

And this is not the game I wanted to play. My voice is hollow when I try to joke with him.

“Writing me off already? Thought you’d at least make it to the final inning.”

“It’s not a game to me, Scarlett,” he says. “But it is to you. And the thing is…”

He pauses for a moment, and his shoulders flex when he pulls the towel from his face, allowing me to see him.

“I could really care about you,” he says. “And I want to. But not if you can’t do the same.”

I’m prepared to lie to him.

But when I open my lips, the words don’t come out the way they usually do.

Something is tugging on that line inside of me now. Pulling me away from Rory to a place where I can be myself again. Where nothing changes and everything stays the same.

But I’m not about to let go of him without leaving claw marks first.

That’s my excuse for climbing onto his lap and kissing him.

I don’t go straight for the lips. I grab his face and pepper him all over the jaw and the throat and I taste his sweat with my tongue and he groans. When I do press my lips against his, he’s still trying to hold out on me.

But I’m soft with him, the way he likes, and then I’m hard. His lips part and they are cold and they have never tasted so good.

He gives in, just like I knew he would.

It’s a victory and I want to celebrate but it feels wrong now. The way he’s kissing me and resenting me at the same time.

I’m confused. And that fucking line is going up and down and all over the fucking place, and my moral compass is suddenly veering due north, apparently.

“She had no right to call you hers,” I tell him as I suck on his throat and yank on his hair. “Who the fuck does she think she is?”

“I never fucked her,” he murmurs against me.

“Yeah right.”

“This is the sort of bollocks I’m talking about,” he groans. “Ye don’t trust me.”

“Who needs trust when we have chemistry like this?” I reason. “I actually want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me too. And hardly half of the things that come out of your mouth annoy me. It’s right, Rory. It just is.”

“Ye really are the devil,” he says.

“But doesn’t it feel good to sin with me?”

I’ve got my hand in his shorts now, and I’m playing with him and he’s not fighting anymore because he knows I win. I always win. And he likes my hand on his cock, jacking him off beneath his shorts. His eyes shudder and then close.

I’m in control and it feels good.

But Rory never lets me have the things that I want.

He heaves me up without warning and spins me around, flattening my chest against the table in front of us. I’m ass up and face down and he’s got my dress up around my waist. He wrenches my head back with a fist of my hair and tells me to take out my goddamn tits.

I shove the top of my dress down and I’m well and truly trapped now, but I’m breathing just fine.

He grabs my fingers and shoves them into my own mouth.

“Suck.”

I suck.

He drags them down to my thong and shoves it aside.

“Play with yourself and tell me something real.”

I play with myself because he tells me to, but it isn’t good and it isn’t real until he takes over for me.

“Talk, or I take it away,” he says as I grind back onto his hand.

Rory’s fingers are magic and he could use them for torture, because I don’t withstand.

“You were so fucking hot tonight,” I say. “I like you like that.”

“And what else?”

“We don’t have to be even. You can just do this all night if you want.”

“You wouldn’t be happy with that,” he says.

“No, I wouldn’t,” I agree.

He rewards my admissions with more of what I want. His palm on my tits, groping me, the other between my legs. He’s biting down on my shoulder and fucking me with his fingers and I’m close so I give him another.

“Cuddling you isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

He lets me come. And it’s hard and messy and my ears are ringing and I want him inside of me. I tell him so.

“Why should I fuck you?” he asks.

“Because nobody else will ever feel as good as I do.”


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