The Life – Rebirth (The Life #4) Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Life Series by Jordan Silver
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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He didn’t have the decency to give me words, just dragged the bag off my shoulder, tossing it to the side. Then he got started on my clothes, tearing my shirt as he pulled it over my head. He lifted my leg with what I will deem to be restrained anger and removed my shoes one after the other. When he went after the tab of my zipper is when I snapped out of it and started to protest, halfheartedly though it was.

I lost that fight as well and soon found myself standing naked in front of him because in my haste to take a stand, I’d neglected to put on my underwear. “You can't keep me here. People will notice that I'm gone, and they'll come looking for me.”

“Let them come.” He actually walked back to his desk after snagging my bag and clothes, which he took with him.

Do you know what was really bothering me? It’s that cold indifference of his. I’m steaming mad, I need to work off some of this steam right, but he’s now playing the iceman—Mr. Cool, calm, and collected. I marched myself right behind him and, still trying not to speak above a whisper, let him have it through my teeth.

“You can’t make me stay here. Now give me my keys.” He didn’t answer, just tapped away on the keys on his keyboard. I don’t know what got into me, but his silence in the face of my anger just pissed me off, and almost three years of anger and frustration just got balled up in my fist, and I hauled off and slugged him in the back of the head. Big mistake! “I’m sorry!” I was backing up with my hands held out in front of me in a plea for mercy.

Even when I was mad at him, I used to swear that Gabriel would never physically hurt me. I didn’t understand him sending me away, but I always knew that he would never harm me. But when he got up from his desk and started stalking me, I was no longer so sure.

I turned to run, but it was too late. He caught my damn hair, which is coming off first thing tomorrow morning. He pulled me, yes, pulled me back towards his desk with that tight grip on my hair which he’d wrapped around his wrist. I didn’t have time to guess at what he was doing because the next thing I knew, I was being pushed against the wall that separated the bedroom from this little office area.

He shoved my legs open with his hips, loosened the string in his pajama bottoms, causing them to fall to the floor, and then he was in me. I opened my mouth to kinda sorta act like I was going to complain, but my mouth was soon too preoccupied for that. His tongue sought entrance to my throat, and he had that hand around my neck again.

I’ll admit I didn’t care because a little bunny inside of me was jumping up and down because she got just what she wanted. Is that why I was acting out? Is this truly what I was after? What did it matter? It felt so good. How easy would it be to just let go of everything else and just enjoy this? I wanted that; right at this moment, it’s all I wanted. Just to stay in this place of coital bliss.

How had I ever convinced myself that I could live without this, without him, for the rest of my life? I’m not sure if it’s normal, but the connection between us made everything else seem small in comparison. I would’ve forgiven him anything at that moment, and when he found a new spot on my neck with his teeth while simultaneously slamming his cock into me, I just let myself go.

‘Gabriel Russo is a diabolical fiend.’ I was rage writing in my little notebook slash journal that I never go anywhere without in-between shooting glares at the back of his head. Why you might ask, after another round of mind-blowing sex which had brought me to the point of perpetual forgiveness, where I was giving serious thought to just giving myself over and putting myself in his hands once again, was I back to wanting to kill him?

Well, let me make a list. One, he did not let me cum. Not any of the times I got so close, my eyes were crossed. It’s as if he willfully and knowingly robbed me of my orgasms. Two, he came, long and hard too, inside of me without asking, I might add. And three, and this is the doozy; he had the nerve to smirk at me after pulling out and just left me there with my legs barely able to stand after being wrapped around him for that half an hour of torture.


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