Wrath Read Book Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole (Wrong #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Wrong Series by L.P. Lovell
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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"Tor..."

Her eyes slowly open, hardened and cold once again. I can't do this to her. She's too fucked up in the head from Joe, and I don't want to hurt her, but I fucking miss this, I miss her. Suddenly, her palms press against my chest like she's going to shove me away, but instead she forces me onto my back. She straddles my hips and glares down at me. Her chest rises in ragged swells. "I want you to take it away," she says as she takes the bottom of my shirt and rips it over my head. "Make me forget," she pleads.

Grabbing her by the hips, I yank her toward me, and she falls forward onto her elbows. I grip the back of her neck and bring her into a brutal kiss. She wants to forget? I'll make her fucking forget anything that isn't me. She nips at my bottom lip and a low moan transfers from her mouth to mine. That noise causes my cock to twitch. My innate urge is to pin her down by her throat, and I inhale, attempting to control myself. I slowly snake my palms up her thighs until I feel lace against my skin. I slip one finger beneath the material, and the second I touch her, her lips still.

I stop, pushing her up enough to see her face. "Tor, look at me."

Her eyes focus on mine, and I can see the fear in them, the uncertainty.

She takes an unsteady breath, resting her forehead against mine as she grabs the waist of my jeans and undoes my fly, then stops. She's breathing so damn hard and just staring off. It's like she's convincing herself she can do this, and that's not what I want.

"You don't have to do this," Jude whispers, his eyes full of concern.

I do though. I need to do this; I need him to do this. "I need it," I whisper against his mouth. "I can still feel him."

Jude shakes his head. His teeth grate against each other. "No one will ever fucking touch you again," he promises, his voice barely restrained.

I believe him. I feel like I'm falling, but he will catch me, no matter what, because that's what Jude does. Sometimes I want to hate him, I want to blame him for everything, but I can't.

His fingers move to the hem of my dress, inching it up over my hips. I stiffen and grab his wrists, halting him. His eyes meet mine. I don't want him to see the marks; the shame stamped all over my skin in ugly scars. "Leave it on."

He shakes his head. He abruptly sits up, bringing us face to face. "Don't hide from me." His low voice soothes my frantic pulse.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and his warm, solid chest presses against my body. He holds me tight, and not for the first time; it's as though he's physically holding me together. His fingers move to the back of my neck, and trail down my spine. I tense as I feel them run over the raised scars, the brands marring my skin. I want to shy away from him. He can't possibly feel anything but disgust as his fingers skim over the thick scar tissue. He stops when he reaches the material of my dress, just above my bra strap. I close my eyes as my throat threatens to close. I feel exposed in the most vulnerable way, and I fucking hate it. His free hand grips the back of my neck, bringing me close.

"Don't be ashamed in front of me," he rasps. "Never be ashamed in front of me."

How can I not feel ashamed? He pulls me close and presses his lips to mine. This kiss is slower, more careful. He treats me as though I'm something breakable, and I am, but I don't want to be. He tears his lips from mine and kisses down my throat and across my chest. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me closer. His erection presses against me through his jeans. Bile rises in my throat as every fibre of my being recoils in horror. I can do this. I can do this. It's not Jude. I know it's not Jude.

He moves against me again, and images flash through my mind, like a video on fast forward. All I can see is Joe moving over me, forcing himself inside my body. Suddenly, it feels like insects are crawling over my skin. I bite my lip as tears sting my eyes. I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling, trying to keep myself rooted in the moment. Here, with Jude. I need Joe out of my body, out of my mind! I need Jude to replace what he took from me.


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