In Their Hands Read Online Julia Sykes

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
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I thrashed, but his big hand bracketed the back of my skull, pressing my cheek hard against the polished mahogany dining table. Before I could gasp out a protest, he flipped up the hem of my short black lace robe. He’d only given me a scrap of fabric for matching underwear, and cool air kissed my bare skin.

A rush of heat immediately flared on my chilled flesh, accompanied by a sharp smack. Stinging pain bloomed where he’d struck me, and I shrieked in impotent rage when I noted the rolled-up newspaper in his fist. Humiliation burned my insides, but he didn’t relent. He struck again, ignoring my screams as he hit my bottom with searing swats. The sting morphed into a deep throb, driving the heated pain deeper with each repeated smack. My bottom was on fire, and something terrible thrummed between my legs, echoing the thudding hits.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the awful sensations, my screams dissipating as I struggled for control.

He pushed his hips against my ass, pinning me against the edge of the table. The wood pressed into my clit, and it pulsed madly at the harsh stimulation through the barely-there panties. I felt his erection, but he made no move to free his cock and drive into my vulnerable body. Keeping me trapped in place, he tugged at my hair to forcibly lift my cheek from the table.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

My eyes were wide and a bit wild when they met his, fear thrilling through my system to make my fingers tremble. I pressed them tighter against the table, as though that would be enough to hide my terror from him.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said calmly, as though we were having a normal conversation over breakfast. As though he wasn’t completely devastating me, body and mind. “You’re trying to take back some control by not eating. How long have you been doing this?”

I pressed my lips together, holding back the admission. How had he seen me so clearly?

He ran the paper down my side, tracing the gentle curve of my hip. “You’re thin, little bird. I thought it was because you’re a dancer. But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I didn’t reply. My mind whirred. How did he even know that I was a dancer? How much did this monster know about me? He seemed to be looking straight into my soul, as though he knew all my secrets already.

His full lips tugged down in a slight frown, his eyes briefly shuttering as he seemed to focus inward. “I watched my mother waste away like this. I’ll be damned if I let my wife do the same.”

He pushed his hips harder against mine, and I bucked as my clit ground against the table. He let out a low hum and trailed the paper down the length of my spine, sending sparks dancing along it. My body was hypersensitive, fear and pain setting every nerve on edge.

“From now on, I’m going to make sure you eat,” he decreed, delivering a swift swat to my outer thigh.

I cried out and jerked beneath him, further stimulating my pulsing bud against the table. Shame rolled through me in a hot wave, and I closed my eyes as though that would be enough to hide the truth of my arousal from him.

He set the paper down, right in front of my face—a clear warning of what would happen if I struggled or defied him. Keeping his firm hold on my hair, he dipped his free hand between us, testing the wet heat between my legs. My inner thighs were slick with traitorous desire.

I swallowed a sob before it could escape from my chest. I would not break for him. Even after he’d bound me and humiliated me in the woods last night, I hadn’t wept. I’d retreated to a quiet place deep inside myself, allowing my mind to go numb rather than allowing him to see me shattered.

What he was doing to me was barbaric, even more sadistic than anything I could’ve imagined. When Luca had warned me of Dante’s cruelty, I’d expected him to revel in beating me. This was so much more perverse and insidious. He attacked my psyche, not content to simply harm my body.

Luca had pushed me hard when he wanted to make me obey him, but he hadn’t wanted to break me. My husband had wanted me to be happy. Dante didn’t care if I shattered in his cruel hands.

I remembered his dark words as he’d carried me out of the woods. Don’t worry. If you break, I’ll put you back together again.

I shuddered and took a breath, forcing air into my lungs to prevent them from seizing. I would not sob for him. My composed mask had been utterly shredded, but I could at least maintain some of my dignity, my sense of self.


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