Force (The Disciples #5) Read Online Cassandra Robbins

Categories Genre: Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Disciples Series by Cassandra Robbins
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
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Taking a step back, I hit the stupid bed and look up at him. “But you’re not gonna answer?” I snip.

The look in his eyes instantly heats my body.

“It depends on my mood.”

He reaches for me and tosses me on the bed. I squeal for an instant and try to stay strong. Maybe it wasn’t him. The news said they had no suspects, but why wouldn’t he deny it if it wasn’t true?

Ryder grabs my ankles and jerks me to the edge, getting on his knees.

“Wait, you can’t just distract me—”

“I’m done talking. Now I’m gonna eat this cunt for breakfast. If you keep asking questions, you can stay here.” He spreads my legs and his tongue goes straight for my clit.”

As I swallow the moan that almost escapes me, he reaches up to my breast, and my treacherous body doesn’t even try playing hard to get.

“Ryder, no. I want to know.” I turn my head so I can look at him.

With his tan, strong hand, he rubs my nipple while he eats me, his golden eyes focused on mine. He inserts two fingers.

“Goddamn it.” This time I do moan, loudly.

Lifting his head, he plunges those fingers deep inside me, rubbing that spot. Instantly, I’m almost ready to come.

“Look at me,” he commands, and my eyes move to his. Laying his other hand on my stomach, he holds me still, his fingers, still inside, urge me on. I try not to scream.

“Holy sh…” I grab ahold of his hand, which is stupid and pointless. He’s a billion times stronger and keeps rubbing till my toes curl.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s my pretty baby. You’re right there, my love, but I’m not gonna make you squirt all over Gia’s sheets.” He smirks as he stops rubbing, and his mouth replaces his fingers. In a moment, I let go, orgasming into his mouth.

He stands and looks down at me. I can barely move. “What’s it going to be?”

“That’s not fair. You know I’m coming. I want you to trust me like I trust you,” I retort, at least as much as I can since the man has got to be a god with those magical hands and giant, thick dick.

“I trust you, but when I say no, it’s done. There are certain things you’re never going to know.” He looks down at me, and I want to argue, but I’ll save it for when I might have a chance at winning.

“I’m assuming that the mafia types were the bad guys?” I lean up on my elbows.

“No. I’m the bad guy. They were monsters.” He turns and picks up his shirt as I let that sit with me.

“Go take a shower. I need to make some calls and I’ll get you some coffee.” His hand reaches out for mine, and maybe I’m crazy, but I take it. Dragging me into his arms, he presses his nose into my neck and inhales.

“I want you to stay with me—that’s as much as I can give you right now.” And for a split second I stop breathing, waiting to hear those magical words that I’ve never had anyone, not even my parents, say to me.

But he doesn’t. It swirls in the air as I pull back and bite the bottom of my lip.

“I’ll stay until I can find my own place.” My voice is tight as if I want to cry, but that’s absurd. He wants me to stay, and for right now, that should be enough, right?

God. I’m a terrible person—more devastated that Ryder didn’t say I love you than by the real possibility that my boyfriend and his club took out the Russian mafia in Los Angeles.

But the truth is I am. Terrible, that is.

RYDER

Present

Malibu, CA

I know what she wants to hear, but with all the crap going on, this is not the time or place for me to decipher my feelings.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I watch her walk to Granger’s guest bathroom. I step out into the hallway. This is not the first time I’ve been at Granger’s. Glancing at the walls, I eye a selection of Gia’s photographs. Granger’s come a long way from basically living in Axel’s garage to become a fucking rock ’n’ roll legend.

“Morning.” Granger leans against the granite island in the middle of his white, airy kitchen, barefoot and shirtless, drinking a cup of coffee.

I grin at him. As much as we all like to bitch about him, his history with us goes way back. I used to watch him and Axel jam at the seediest dives we could find in Los Angeles.

“What time did you get in?”

He pushes off the counter and opens a large, whitewashed cabinet for a mug. “Probably 1 AM. You see the news?”

I grab the pot of coffee and pour the dark liquid into the mug. “Julianna was mentioning it.” I look over at him and he nods.


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