Dominate (Deliver #8) Read Online Pam Godwin

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Deliver Series by Pam Godwin
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
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She fucking spanked him.

He froze and felt her go deadly still behind him.

“Rylee.”

“Tommy.” Her voice shook.

“You better run.”

CHAPTER 22

The mad ravings of Rylee’s thoughts withered beneath the impact of Tommy’s searing glare.

Oh, shit. She’d done it now. He was going to kill her.

Her heart rate spiked, hammering at her to flee. But with Tommy, she never did the smart thing.

In a bristling surge of fear, she slapped his face, making his cheeks bloom redder, hotter, madder than ever.

His hands balled at his sides, his cock outrageously long and swollen between his powerful legs.

Beautiful.

Dominant.

Terrifying man.

“Go ahead.” She stood taller, despite her knocking knees. “Hurt me just like you promised.”

His nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes. When they opened again, his anger was leashed, focused.

“Love hurts,” he said. “It lashes out when tempers erupt. I might say shit I don’t mean, but I will not strike you when I lose control.”

Like she just did.

Her face tingled, chilling at the implication.

“You want me to hit you out of anger, so you can push me away.” He touched her chin, lifting it. “You want me to cheat on you, so you can blame me when you run.” He lowered his hand. “I won’t do it, Rylee. I’ll grab your throat in the heat of passion because it burns you up. I’ll beat your ass because it makes you wetter than sin. But I will never cheat on you, nor will I ever hurt you out of anger.”

“You hurt me when you fucked me in the desert.”

“Weak argument. We were both raging. With hunger.”

Buzzing ignited in her ears. She shook her head, unable to escape the thrashing of her pulse. “I don’t trust you.”

“You’re too scared to try.”

“I’m old enough to be your mother. A hard pass.”

“That was a lie. A bullshit attempt to chip away your confidence. There’s no excuse for it. I was in the wrong. You know all my secrets, and I felt cornered, embarrassed by my mistakes. You had the advantage. You still do. You have the power to destroy me.”

“I do not!” She drove her fist against his stone-hard chest. “See? You don’t even move!” Another punch. “You chained me in the desert.” Punch, slap, punch. “You strangled me until I passed out, left me with no water, and starved me for days.” She pounded her knuckles in a fit of fury, her eyes hot with tears. “I can’t forgive you. I won’t. What kind of woman falls in love with a sadistic bastard?”

He stopped the barrage of her fists with a bear-hug, lifted her off her feet, and brought her down on her back on the bed.

“A sadistic woman, that’s who.” He lay atop her, trapping her hands and hovering his face an inch from hers. “And this bastard loves you.”

She felt a cracking, rupturing sensation around her heart, and all at once, something burst, letting in air and warmth and terrible possibilities.

“No.” She was breaking open, falling apart. “Stop playing with me, Tommy. If you’re going to hurt me, just do it. Get it over with!”

He kissed her. Open mouth. Sweep of tongue. Gentle strokes, slipping along the inside of her lower lip. It hurt. Not like a fist. It hurt like hunger pangs. It was a helpless, gnawing, painful need way down deep inside.

Delving deeper, he roamed the caverns of her mouth with a skill that electrified. Her knees turned to water. Her arms went slack between them, and currents of insidious heat flooded her breasts, prickling the peaks.

He kissed her with tenderness, his hands flowing over her body with devotion, drawing pleasure beneath her skin, making her hungry, needy for more. He tasted of warmth and something rich and masculine and loyal. He tasted like her fantasies.

Never, never, had she been touched or kissed with such sublime adoration. His tongue moved in her mouth with agonizing respect as his fingers traced her breasts with reverence. His cock lay hard and thick against her belly, leaking from the tip but not stabbing. Not taking.

She could battle his cruelty with fists. She could fight his ruthlessness with hateful words. She could sink her teeth into his stone-cold rage.

But she couldn’t attack his affection with violence. She couldn’t hit him when he kissed like this. When he kissed her like he well and truly loved her. She wasn’t that hard-hearted.

But she wasn’t naive, either.

He would grow bored. Whatever this infatuation was, it wouldn’t last. He would miss the excitement of the chase.

His mouth trailed down her neck and suckled her breasts. The pressure of his lips, the swirl of his tongue, it was too perfect, too familiar, as though she’d spent her entire life in his arms.

His hand, strong and long-fingered, slid between her legs, tracing the shape of lower lips and rousing sensitive nerve endings. She throbbed, and his mouth nuzzled her quivering belly. Liquid heat flooded her pussy, and he continued to explore, tease, and slowly dismantle her kiss by kiss.


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