Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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“Fucking Christ.” Madden stomps toward me as I force myself onto my battered knees, pride officially vanquished.

“Are you happy now?” He kneels and tries to help me up, but I bat his hands away.

“Stop.” I sniffle as an embarrassing amount of moisture begins to leak from my eyes.

“Come here.” His voice softens slightly, and this time, I don’t shove him away when he grabs me and picks me up. He wraps my legs around his waist and carries me as I bury my tear-soaked face in the crook of his neck.

“I can walk,” I protest weakly. But really, I don’t want to. I want to stay right here in his arms. I guess that makes me pathetic.

When we reach the truck, his palms skim up the backs of my thighs and over the curve of my ass before he sets me down slowly. It doesn’t escape my attention how turbulent his eyes are when they find mine or that when I lean into him, I can feel the weight of his cock pressing against my belly.

I want to know what it feels like inside me. I want to know what it feels like to come undone around him. The alcohol in my blood makes me bold, and before I think about the consequences, I brush my fingers over the heat there.

“Is it for me?” I ask. “Or for her?”

The muscle in his neck tightens, but otherwise, he doesn’t move. I grope him through his jeans, and he gives me a dark, lazy stare.

“I think you’re the liar,” I murmur. “Are you going to tell me again how much you hate me?”

“You think this makes you special?” he answers dryly. “I don’t need to like you to fuck you.”

“Prove it.”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t say a word as he watches me unzip his jeans. His face is unreadable, but when my fingertips graze the heat beneath his black briefs, a noticeable shudder moves through him.

“Prove me wrong,” I whisper. “Show me how much you hate me.”

“Bianca.” His voice is a warning. One I don’t heed.

I slip my fingers beneath the band of his briefs and wrap them around his warm, hard shaft. It’s thick. So thick I have a moment of panic when I wonder if he’ll split me in half. I don’t remember anything about my sex life, if I ever had one. I just know that I’m soaked for him, and right now, I’d let him tear me in two just so I could know what it felt like.

“You want to fuck me,” I tell him.

“No.”

A smile curves my lips as I lean up on my toes like I’m going to kiss him. But instead, I bite him.

“Fucking brat.” He grabs me and spins me back around. Pinning me against the seat, he stabs my ass with his cock. “You are testing my goddamn patience.”

I grind against him. “So punish me then.”

“You want my dick?” He grabs a handful of my hair and forces me to look at him.

“I want your hate.”

He’s quiet, his eyes moving over my face like he’s trying to figure me out. I can tell he wants it. He’s trying to harness his restraint, and I’m trying to think of ways to push him over the edge. I widen my stance and slowly pull my skirt around my hips, then slide my thong down to my knees.

“Fuck me, or I’ll go back inside and find someone who will.”

“He’d be a dead man before you could even say the words,” he growls, sliding his fingers between my thighs. A strangled groan gets caught in his throat when he feels how wet I am.

I rub against his cock, and he smacks my ass hard.

“Ow,” I yelp.

“Did that hurt?” he mocks.

I’m about to tell him yes when he smacks me square between the thighs. This time, I rear up, only for him to shove me back against the seat.

My pussy throbs with warmth, and he soothes the sting by massaging me there with his fingers. Any defiance I may have had left melts away when his lips brush against my ear.

“Are you going to be good?”

“Yes,” I choke out. As long as he keeps doing that.

But he doesn’t. Cool air replaces the warmth of his fingers as his voice skitters down my spine.

“Say please.”

“Please,” I pant without shame, dying to have his hands on me again.

“This isn’t for you,” he tells me. “Don’t get this twisted, thinking it means anything because you’re flaunting a wet pussy in my face. All you are is convenient.”

I smile against the seat, silently feeling like I’ve won at least one battle if he thinks he’s convincing anyone but himself.

“If I had my way, I’d be fucking your buddy Tank right now,” I goad him.

He smacks my ass again, and I bite back a shriek.



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