Heartbreak You Read online T.L. Smith (Heartbreak Duet #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Heartbreak Duet Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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All I can think about—all I want to think about—is what’s inside of these walls. The man who has disrespected but also worshipped me. I’m not sure what is right and wrong. I’ve only had men or been with men who are compliant, who are good, so I’ve never had a taste for something this dark and sinister.

Maybe Lucy and I do have that in common, and I was simply too late to realize it or too ignorant because I didn’t want to be anything like her. That was Lucy’s job—to want what I want, to have what I want. Maybe it’s God’s way of showing me that I’m a little fucked-up too.

Atlas opens his bedroom door, and then he turns around. I’m two steps behind him, and he covers those two steps fast, his hands gripping my ass to lift me, so I have to wrap my legs around him.

“Maybe against the wall before the bed?” he asks, his eyes dark now.

I grip tighter around his neck. When I lift myself, I reach between us, gripping his cock in my hand, positioning it to my pussy entrance, and sliding down the shaft. Atlas’s eyes close just for a fraction before they open again, and when they do, I see the gold specks sparkling in his eyes before he takes another step and slams my back against the wall. My hands stay around his neck as we start moving, and it’s the perfect rhythm. Every nerve ending sparking, every spot is being hit in the most perfectly delicious way imaginable.

He grips my hair with one hand, pulling it back as he moves me from the wall. Exposing my neck to him, he bites, dragging his teeth down the side to my shoulder and repeats the same thing. The sensations only heighten everything that’s happening between us right now.

I come, again. Hard. My nails digging into his neck, trying to control everything that’s happening to, or rather racing through, my body right now.

Atlas moves me up and down, faster and harder, both hands now on my ass while I have lost all energy to be able to move.

When he comes, we both fall, but he protects me and drops to his knees then lets me fall backward, my back now on the bedroom floor. He does the same, lying next to me and breathing heavily.

I close my eyes, my body still shivering from the orgasm that has racked through me, that is still shuddering through me. His hand touches my bare belly. My shirt—well, his shirt—was somehow ripped from my body during our encounter.

I go to sit up, but he holds me down. “Stay,” he says.

Atlas stands and reaches for me, lifting me as if I weigh nothing, then lays me on his bed. He walks off, and when he comes back, he has a towel in his hand which he passes to me. “Sleep, we can talk tomorrow. Not tonight.”

I nod, no more talking, I’m too tired. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I wipe myself and curl up into a ball on his bed. I feel the bed dip as he slides in next to me. His hand touches my hip, and he pulls me back to him, my naked body now aligned with his. I try not to think too much about it as my eyes become heavy and I fall fast asleep.

And I have the best sleep I’ve had in a long, long time.

Dread fills me.

What have I done?

I sit up fast, and my head spins.

Fuck! What have I done?

Atlas tries to pull me back down, but I manage to get off the bed.

I wasn’t drunk. Everything he did, I wanted. I’m not going to lie.

I turn around and see Atlas opening his eyes.

“Benji.” I say his cousin’s name.

Atlas’s face contorts as if the word hurts.

“What did you do with his body?” I ask.

Atlas sits and pulls the sheet up to cover his cock. His hand strokes through his hair, pulling it from its crazy, sexy mess as he turns to look at me. “You don’t get to say his name,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You blame me, still?” I ask while shaking my head.

Atlas moves, and the sheet drops as he stands. He makes his way to the bathroom and looks back, stopping as his hand touches the door frame. “I don’t blame you, but I also can’t help but think it would have been a different outcome if you weren’t there,” he says, then disappears through the opening.

My heart hurts.

And not in a good way either.

Finding a shirt on the floor, I reach for it and throw it on, my naked body now covered as I wait for him to come back out. He doesn’t take long, and when he does return, he’s wearing a pair of athletic shorts.


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