Revenge (Yacht Kings #1) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Erotic, Forbidden, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Yacht Kings Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
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I unhook the train from her gown, then draw the zipper down the back of the dress until the entire thing falls in a white poofy puddle at her feet.

She’s not wearing a bra. She stands in her heels, garters, white silk stockings, and pair of white lacy panties that beg to be pulled down.

I hold my hand down between her shoulder blades and give her ass a slap–not too hard, not too soft.

Enough to make her gasp.

“When I give you an order, Principessa, I expect you to obey.” I pop her ass again–on the other side this time.

I repeat the action, spanking her on one cheek and the other a few more times, then I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly draw them down to her upper thighs.

She hunches her back, keeping her face tucked into the bedcovers.

“Good girl,” I praise her because she’s taking it well.

And because it pleases the fuck out of me to punish her.

So much more than I imagined.

When I thought about claiming Dahlia, it was solely for revenge. This society girl who was far too good for me seven years ago will now be completely under my thumb. I plan to frighten her. Cow her. Make her sorry she ever met me.

It was to punish her father, mostly, but also to teach the spoiled little rich girl a lesson.

Now that I have her in my bedroom, now that she’s my wife, my desire to punish her has morphed into something…more pleasurable. Definitely dirtier.

The best revenge of all will be to complete my debauchery of this perfect socialite. Train her to obey using pain and pleasure.

I stroke her bare flesh, noting the heat I’ve already produced, the redness of my handprints.

She twists to look over her shoulder at me with alarm, no doubt worried I intend to claim her virginity. I answer her look with a sharp slap.

She hides her face again.

I take my time, working slowly, enjoying the spring of her flesh under my palm, the slappy sound that fills the room. I’m not causing her real pain. It’s more an imposition of my will.

Dahlia gasps and wriggles, making my dick thicken, my balls grow heavy with need. But I meant what I said–I won’t force her. That’s a line I won’t cross.

I will just have to show her everything she’s been missing. Make her hot and trembly then deny her satisfaction. If I repeat that treatment often enough, she’ll come begging me for it.

I stop and slide two fingers between her legs. She’s not just wet. She’s dripping.

“Mmm. You’re already slick, Dahlia. Are you enjoying your spanking?”

“What? No!” she snaps, crossing her legs.

I chuckle. “Are you trying to alleviate that ache I’ve produced, bella?”

She squeezes her inner thighs together even more tightly.

I return to spanking her, increasing the intensity until her entire ass is a lovely shade of pink.

“Open your thighs,” I command.

She doesn’t move.

I deliver a couple of hard swats–much harder than I was striking before–and she squeals. “Ow! Ouch! You’re hurting me.”

“Open, baby.”

She uncrosses her legs and parts them an inch.

I slide my fingers through her juices, rewarding her with pleasure.

She holds still this time as if listening to the movement of my fingers. As if she wants more.

I take my time, slowly exploring her folds. I circle her clit. Apply more pressure. She grinds against my fingertip. I wonder if she’s ever orgasmed. How closely she guarded that virginity. Did she mess around with other guys at balls? Do everything but give up her V-card?

That thought sends a spike of possessiveness through me. The desire to murder any boy who ever touched her.

I remove my fingers and give her a couple more punitive swats, even though she didn’t do anything to deserve them.

“Stop it!” she cries.

“You’ll take it however I give it, Principessa. That’s the way this is going to work.”

She reaches back and covers her ass. I gather her wrists at her lower back with one hand and return to my slow exploration of her folds. The tissue is already engorged, plump with excitement, blooming for me.

I listen for her quickening of breath. Find what makes her pussy clench and squeeze on air. I screw one finger into her tight entrance.

She’s definitely a virgin.

She goes still, her legs shivering, her belly lifting and falling with her panting breath. I’m gentle, working my finger in and out slowly, tracing it back up to her clit, then down to enter her again in a pleasure circuit.

A small puff of breath escapes her lips. Then a moan.

But I don’t give her satisfaction. I want her needy for me. Hungry.

I just give her a little taste of the pleasure I can deliver. Then I pull away. I sit beside her on the bed and tug her to sit on my lap.


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