Sordid Read online Free Book Nikki Sloane (Sordid #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sordid Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
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It happened so fast. His hands dipped behind me and undid the bra clasp on my back. My palms flew up to hold the bra cups in place so I could cover myself, and his action effectively trapped me. I couldn’t take my hands off without exposing my breasts. He gripped my shoulders once more, holding me on my knees as I stared up at him, shocked.

Why was he doing this? Words failed me, and when I was silent for a few long seconds, he let out a breath. “Good. I’m going to take my hands away, but you’ll stay like this.”

He obviously wasn’t as smart as I thought, and I was grateful. As soon as his grip was gone, I slid my hands behind my back and hooked the bra closed, while attempting to climb to my feet. I moved as fast as I possibly could—

The result was I ended up face-down on the bed, the comforter smashed against my nose, and it was hard to breathe.

Shit, shit, shit! I scrambled up on my arms, but his strong body crushed against mine, pinning my hips to the edge of the bed. And he’d been ready for me to try it because his hands seized my wrists and wrenched my arms behind my back. Without support, I flopped down on the mattress, which muffled my startled cry.

I wasn’t going to allow this to happen. Goddamnnit, fight! I slammed my heel down on the top of his foot. He grunted with displeasure, and suddenly red-hot, excruciating pain radiated up my arm. The agony of him twisting my wrist stole my breath and made me into a statue.

“Don’t do that again,” he ordered in his harsh, deep voice. “Fighting me is pointless.” There was a loud smack as his palm connected with my backside, delivering a blow. “You’re mine now.”

Chapter

Seven

Luka’s terrifying words twisted in my mind and a glacier crept in to surround me.

“This is how it is,” he said, devoid of emotion. “It’s going to be hard, but we’ll get through it. You’ll do what I say, whether you want to or not.”

“I won’t! Get your hands off of me!”

His grip twisted, sending more fire along my arms. “You will, or, as I already told you, you’ll be punished.” He used his foot to kick my feet further apart and pressed me down into the mattress. “Hold this position.”

My brain emptied of coherent thought when the back of my skirt was lifted. When I tried to break free, his hand came down and slapped against my ass, stinging me through my panties. I choked on air and froze. He used my panic to position me again, pushing me into the mattress so my back was flat and straight.

“Perfect.” His single word, uttered in a low voice, made me tremble. “In fact, prove to me how perfect you are, Addison.” His tone mocked me. “Tell me pi to the eighth decimal place.”

It was as if my brain hit a wall going sixty miles an hour. “What?”

He slapped his palm against my already flushed skin, and this one really, really hurt. “Pi to the eighth decimal place. Now.”

I whimpered. Was he fucking serious? I swallowed a breath and forced my mind to cooperate. Maybe if I got through this bizarre exercise, he’d let me go. “Three,” I said in a shaky, confused voice, “point one four . . . one five . . .” I didn’t want to think about the number, I wanted to think about what was happening. I needed to think about escape, but it was like he was doing this to control every part of me. “Two—”

Even before I felt the lash of his hand, I knew I had screwed up, and it made it worse. I tensed for the blow and he didn’t disappoint. I cried out right after the loud smack of skin hitting skin.

“Nine!” I said. “Three point one four one five nine two.”

“That six places. You’ve got two more.”

I bit down on my wavering lip and pinched my eyes shut. I had no idea what number came after two.

“I’m waiting.”

“I . . . don’t know,” I admitted.

I expected him to deliver another strike, but instead he rattled off the full thing in a blur. In my confusion, I couldn’t process what he’d said.

“Pi to the eighth decimal,” he ordered.

Unexpected tears burned in my eyes. I still had no idea. “Can you repeat—”

His hand scooped beneath the band of my bra and he pulled so hard, I heard threads ripping. It forced me up and I arched my back to keep my arms from hurting more than they already did.

“Three point one four.” He let go of the bra band and the elastic snapped against my back. “One five nine two.” His arm curled around my body, shoving a hand inside my bra. “Six.” His fingers circled my nipple and pinched. “Five.”


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