On her 21st birthday she’s taken. Collected by a rich family as an unpaid debt. Her body sold. Her mind his.21 weeks
For 21 weeks she carried a burden no girl should ever have to carry. Now she loses her freedom to a man born to destroy her.
His name: Angel DeLuca. His mission: To break her in 21 days before she sees through his lies. But she won’t give up without a fight.
It takes only 21 minutes for their lives to be forever entwined.
21 seconds to spill.
Time is running out. Secrets ruin them … but not all truths are worth the price.
This is a STANDALONE Dark Romance novel. WARNING: contains explicit situations, graphic violence, drug abuse, and other disturbing content.
“You didn’t give me what I want either, so now I’m going to take from you what I want even more.” His tongue dips out to wet his lips, and he bites the bottom one for just a second. For some reason, my eyes zoom in on it, and they forget for just a second what’s going on here. “You’ll like it … don’t worry,” he muses, stepping even closer so he can smell me. I turn my head to the side while he sniffs me, trying to lean away, but it seems it only makes him come closer. He places a soft kiss on my neck, his tongue drawing a line upward toward my ear. Right before he nibbles my ear, he hovers in front of it, and for a second, I think I can hear him smile. He hisses, “I love your smell.
Your taste. They make me so fucking hard.” Suddenly, his hand is on my breast, kneading, tugging, and twisting. Everything and anywhere, all at the same time. Sensory overload makes me gasp, and when my mouth opens, he covers it with his. He takes my breath quite literally, kissing me until my moan is silenced, kissing me with everything he has. His taste is familiar, intoxicating, and for a second, I forget that I’m even hanging here. His tongue expertly licks the roof of my mouth, his lips brushing mine with equal fervor. “This is what I’ll take from you,” he murmurs into my mouth. His free hand slides down my body and past my inner thighs, pushing my legs apart as he starts rubbing me. I feel humiliated. Used. Shameful, for actually feeling my pussy thump from having him touch me. “Hmm … you like it when I touch you.” It’s not even a question. “No …” I say, shaking my head. He grins. “Yes, you do.” He pushes a finger on top of my clit. “Right here.” I moan when he rubs it with his index finger and then brings his thumb into the play to roll my clit. Wetness is building inside me as my core clenches, desperate to fight off the arousal, but my body is a fool for his touch. My mind has been deprived for too long, and when he offers me this release, I’m too weak to fight it. It crosses my mind that perhaps, if I give this to him, he’ll be more gentle with me.
Maybe, if I give him anything he wants, he’ll let me go. It might be a futile thought, but it’s here, and it’s not going anywhere. “Don’t think I’m doing this for your pleasure, Sky.” He groans. “Oh, no. I’m doing this because I want to watch you writhe from my finger.” Still twisting and pulling my nipples with one hand, he’s driving me crazy with lust, as the other expertly builds the desire between my legs. “I’m going to watch you come, and you’re going to enjoy it, and then hate yourself for liking it. And tomorrow, we’ll do the same thing. And then again … and again …” “Stop …” I moan. Who am I kidding? He’s not going to, and I’m not even sure I want him to stop anymore.He’s got me under a spell, and I’m helpless to fight it.
Hi there! I’m a mom and wife by day (and night), aspiring writer (in my dreams), and an avid reader (every day of the week). This is my little corner of the web to post about ALL things books. I live in Copenhagen, but I am a Canadian girl (born and raised) at heart.