For Him Trilogy (EBOOKS)
For Him Trilogy (EBOOKS)
I'm the son of ruthless criminal.
She is innocence incarnate.
My Catalina...
The girl I grew up with.
I'll sacrifice everything for her.
But I've been ordered to break that innocence.
To take it, and corrupt it into something else.
Something darker.
Dirtier.
To prepare her for a world she's been sheltered from all these years.
She calls me her Angel.
But I'm the one who just might destroy her.
Bundle contains:
✔️Raised for Him
✔️Unbound for Him
✔️Damaged for Him
Read a Steamy Excerpt From Raised For Him...
Read a Steamy Excerpt From Raised For Him...
“Enough,” he said sharply.
Before I could register what was happening, he’d crossed the small amount of space
between us. He grabbed my wrist and yanked it out of my panties. His fingers
dug into my skin, pain shooting up my arm as he twisted it. I yelped.
“You’re
being a brat, Catalina. I told you what the rules were, and you’re breaking
them.”
“I was
pleasing you. Watching me was pleasing you.”
“If
you’re going to be a brat, you’ll get treated like one.”
He
dragged me onto the bed, tugging me onto his lap. I wriggled against him,
unsure what he was doing. The hard line of his erection pressed into my
stomach. He might be angry with me, but that hadn’t affected his reaction to
me, physically.
“I could
make you behave by stopping this whole thing, but then how far would that get
us? You’re doing this to learn what life will be like with your new master, and
this will probably be just one of the ways he’ll punish you for your
misbehavior.”
Alarm ran
jagged through my veins. “Angel. What are you doing?”
I still
wore the panties, but he yanked them down, rolling the slip of material down my
thighs. I wriggled again, but he held me down, his forearm across my back. Who
was this man? Where had my Angel gone?
A whip of
air behind me, and his palm landed on my bare bottom with a crack. There was a
white hot sting of pain and then a flare of heat from where his hand had
landed.
“One,” he
growled.
I sucked
in a breath of shock, tears pricking my eyes. I hadn’t expected him to do that.
But he didn’t even give me a moment to recover. He pulled back his hand and
spanked me again.
“Two.”
I bucked
in his lap at the contact, and I was sure his erection grew even harder,
digging into the soft flesh of my lower belly. Did he enjoy this? Did men enjoy
this? Did women?
He
spanked me again, my skin flaring hot.
“Three.”
I
remembered things I’d seen and heard from the rooms of the other women, often
sounds of smacks and slaps. Sometimes the women would emerge with bloodied
noses or blackened eyes, but other times they were smiling, with no visible
signs of injury.
“You need
to learn to behave,” he growled from above me. “Do you want to get hurt for
real?”
I was
ready for the next spank, bracing myself. His hand made contact, and instead of
only the pain, pleasure condensed low in my core, not far from where his
erection prodded me.
“Four.”
I gasped at the pain, but on the exhale a low
groan emanated from my throat. I squirmed against him, trying to scratch the
itch that had suddenly made itself known.
I didn’t
understand. How could something that hurt also feel good? He said he was
punishing me, but then why did he seem to enjoy doing it?
The spanking
continued, and I counted the rest—five, six, seven.
He
stopped there. Why seven?
I was
breathing heavily, and so was he, both of us panting as though we’d run a race.
Or had sex. Though we’d done neither of those things. My bottom burned from
where he’d spanked me, and I was wet, certain I’d left a mark on his suit
pants. What would he say if he saw it? Was it something he’d punish me for
again? Had I enjoyed that? Did I want more?
So many
thoughts ran through my head. I trembled with anticipation, unsure what I was
supposed to do now, terrified to move in case it was the wrong thing. Only
moments before, I’d felt comfortable in Angel’s presence, confident in what I
was doing because this was Angel.
Even
though I’d wanted him to see me as a woman, I’d always felt safe with him
because I also knew he saw me as that same child. By doing what I had and
showing him that I was no longer that child, he’d done the same to me and
showed me that he also wasn’t the boy I’d grown up with.
He had
another side to him—dark and hard—and he wasn’t to be messed with.
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