Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bellamy Creek Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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“What are you gonna do about it?” he asked, his head cocked to one side.

“Hide somewhere else.” Spinning away from him, I ran for the first-floor bathroom, struggling not to break an ankle in my Jimmy Choos.

When he chased me, I managed to pivot on a dime and rush toward the stairs again. But I wasn’t even two steps up when he caught me around the waist as I shrieked and squirmed in his arms.

“Tell you what,” he said low in my ear. “Since I’m a nice guy, I’m going to give you a head start. I’ll let you get to the top of the stairs before I come after you. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“No,” I said, struggling to get out of his iron grip.

“On your mark, get set, go.” He loosened his vise-hold on me and I escaped, dashing up the stairs as quickly as my heels would allow. I hadn’t even reached the top before I heard him coming up behind me, two steps at a time, his work boots making big heavy sounds on the steps.

“You cheated!” I squealed, racing toward his bedroom, which we’d been sharing since my second night here. “You said you’d give me until the top of the stairs!” I moved as fast as I could, but I still couldn’t manage to slam the door shut behind me—Enzo easily caught it with his forearm and swung it open.

“I didn’t cheat. I lied. There’s a difference.”

Breathing hard, I backed toward the bed, my hands out in front of me. “You once told me you never lied.”

“That was before you put on the apron. Before you ran away from me.” He came toward me slowly now, his dark eyes on fire, his tone menacing. “Do you think that was nice to do to your husband? Torture him? Make him mad? Turn him into a monster?”

The backs of my legs hit the bed just as he grabbed my forearms. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to punish you.”

My heart was pounding. “How?”

Without answering, he spun me around, put his hand on my back, and forced me forward at the waist. The next thing I heard was his belt being undone. The next thing I felt were my wrists being bound behind my back. The next thing I knew, he was leaning over me, his fists braced beside my shoulders, his voice teasing in my ear. “Come on, Lucy. Fight me.”

I struggled against the leather strap, but it was too tight—and he still hovered right over my back so I couldn’t stand up. I huffed and puffed and writhed, but I gave up the effort in less than ten seconds.

“Do you surrender?” he asked, his breath tickling my skin, his lips brushing the back of my neck. His chest was hot and solid against my back, and my body was burning up for him.

“Never,” I hissed.

“Then I guess you leave me no choice.” He straightened up and delivered a loud, hard slap to my ass. “What about now?”

I yelped—because yes, it fucking stung—but then I laughed. “No! Is it too late to change my mind about marrying you?”

“On our anniversary? You heartless wench.” He smacked the other side of my ass, then covered both cheeks with his palms, pressing gently.

“I didn’t sign up for this abuse!”

“This isn’t abuse, babe.” He knelt behind me and kissed my burning flesh. “This is revenge.”

“For what?” I breathed. His soft, full lips moving over the skin his hands had just marked, made my legs tremble.

“For making me want you this way.” One of his hands slid up between my thighs, his fingers probing inside me. “For teasing me. For tempting me.”

My pulse was firing rapidly, my insides were melting at his touch. “You deserved it.”

“Maybe I did.” He slipped his fingers in deep, then withdrew them, rubbing them over my clit in slow, rhythmic circles. “But you’re still a wicked little girl.”

“You like it,” I whispered as he pushed my heels farther apart and buried his face between my legs, fucking me with his tongue.

My mouth fell open and my eyes squeezed shut. Was this real? Enzo Moretti—cocky, high-and-mighty, self-absorbed Enzo Moretti was kneeling between my thighs, worshiping my body with his arrogant mouth and his insolent tongue and those beautifully rugged hands?

In no time at all, my legs were nearly numb with pleasure. My insides were knotted so tight, I cried out with the need for release. My swollen clit hummed as he licked and sucked and teased it. But any time I got close to orgasm, he always backed off—and I knew he was doing it on purpose, because I’d hear the low chuckle in his throat and feel his breath on my warm, wet skin. He knew my body so well already.

“Enzo,” I begged, near tears. “Please.”


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