The Dominator (The Dominator #1) Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Dominator Series by D.D. Prince
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Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
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But, it was probably too late for that. He’d known me for just a little while and I’d pissed him off repeatedly. He’d find someone else to marry. He’d just leave me here and move on with his life. Juan Carlos had said the Ferranos didn’t usually bargain. This was probably hopeless.

7

Two Days Later…

Negotiations were done, and if I’d really meant the things I’d agreed to, I’d be feeling like I’d been fucked up the ass right now.

Of course, there had been a lot of back and forth as I had to make it look genuine. Now all was done and I had to wait for Castillo’s men to come back to the table to tell us if Juan Carlos would accept our latest counteroffer, which was so close to his last offer that he couldn’t possibly refuse it.

We’d tried to make our negotiations sound more like a reason to move forward due to mutually beneficial business ventures that could benefit both sides much more than it being about getting my girl back.

I was like a caged predator on the edge and if it weren’t for Dare, I’d have lost my shit by now. He dealt with our translator who dealt with the Castillo translator and they showed me a live feed of her in a kid’s bedroom on the bed looking at the ceiling with a lost and distraught look on her face. The feed was open, so I kept checking it on my phone. I was assured she hadn’t been touched.

I speak a bit of Spanish, enough, but I just don’t have the fucking patience right now, not when I want to rip anyone associated with Castillo apart.

There were ten of us in the room and countless outside all with guns and I want blood. I want it to fucking rain blood on this shithole. And as soon as I get her out of here, there will be a storm coming. Why the hell were we even involved in this business down here? Pop and I needed to have a talk about this.

I bolted awake. I wasn’t alone. The bedroom lights were still on as they had been the whole time I’d been here. A man was standing over me, the Mexican man with the ponytail who’d been driving the car that took me.

I didn’t know how long I’d been here. There were no windows and the lights were always on, but I guessed it’d been at least three days judging by how many times food had been brought in. Too much time alone with my thoughts, with my fears, with my regrets. All that’d happened was that a few times that Flora lady brought food and water. She didn’t talk to me, just came and left.

I don’t think I could ever survive a lengthy stay in solitary confinement. Being locked in this room with nothing to do was awful. But I’d tolerated it as best as I could because I didn’t know what would happen once I left this room.

“On your knees,” he growled at me.

I stared at him, frozen. He grabbed my hair and pulled me off the bed with it until I was on my knees on the floor.

“Ferrano says no one fucks you or the deal’s off but he didn’t say you couldn’t suck me off.” He unzipped his jeans. Oh fuck no.

He was forcing his thing into my mouth, hanging onto a handful of material at the back of my dress. I choked and sputtered so he slapped me across the head and when he hit, he hit so hard I saw a kaleidoscope of colors. He pushed his dick into my mouth again and I just gagged and then tears were streaming out of my eyes. It was disgusting, he stank like old cheese and sweat and tasted nasty. I couldn’t stop gagging. He didn’t care; he just kept pumping in over and over around my gagging.

“Bite me, Puta, I’ll knock your teeth out,” he grunted, and then I heard a scuffle behind him and hollering as his grip loosened on me. I heard a bang, a gunshot.

He fell beside me. Earl had shot him in the back of the head. Earl had a look of ferocity on his face. He helped me up and put me on the bed and then disappeared into the bathroom. I stared at the man on the floor in the puddle of almost black blood and his vacant eyes. His penis was still hanging out of his pants. Earl came back with a wet cloth and started wiping my face.

“That should never have happened, honey, I’m sorry,” he said, then walked me to the bathroom and turned the tap on. I splashed water on my face and scooped a handful of water and spit it out and then repeated it two or three times. The taste in my mouth was vile, beyond vile. I couldn’t stop shaking.


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