The Ruler (Roman Republic #1) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Roman Republic Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
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So I chose to believe this was real—that he was real.

I’d been out of the game for years, so I didn’t have any of my own moves to seal the deal. So, without thinking, I just went for it. I moved my hand to his muscular thigh under the table and gave a gentle squeeze. “Then take me.”

Chapter 4

Aurelia

We took the elevator to the top floor and stepped into a long hallway with guest rooms on either side. Some faced the ocean, while others faced the gardens. When he walked beside me, I realized he had to be nearly six and a half feet tall, feeling dwarfed by his height even in my sky-high heels.

He kept his focus ahead as his hand snaked down and grabbed mine. His fingers were twice the size of mine, a single palm almost as big as my head. It was such an innocent touch, but it was enough to set off fireworks inside my chest.

A minute later, he reached the door and quickly pulled out his key to swipe it across the pad. The lock clicked and he opened the door, revealing a large suite with an entryway, two bathrooms, a separate bedroom, and a terrace that could easily entertain a dozen people.

I might have been more impressed by the room if I weren’t so impressed by the man who’d brought me there. The lights were already dimmed, and turndown service had been completed, so the place was clean and tidy. He didn’t fill the silence with conversation or offer me a drink. He turned toward me, slid his hand into my hair, and kissed me.

Kissed me good.

With masculine restraint and a purposeful embrace, cradling my head and angling his neck down so our lips could touch. He snaked his hand down my body to my ass, and he squeezed one cheek firmly in his grip before he suddenly lifted me into his arms.

I’d been picked up by a man before, but never with this level of ease, like I was a goddamn feather. And he held me with a single arm, sliding his other hand into my hair again, holding me like I weighed nothing.

Such a fucking turn-on.

And his kiss didn’t suffer from the distraction of my weight. His mouth moved with mine, his tongue swiped at the perfect moments, and he cranked up my desire to a threshold I’d never reached before.

My dress popped up over my hips as I was held against him, exposing my black G-string, the material covering almost nothing. My hand dug freely into his short hair, and I felt the engine of my body rev to life. The sexiest man I’d ever seen wanted me as much as I wanted him. I’d stepped into a fantasy written just for me.

He carried me to the bed and gently laid me down underneath him. He broke the kiss right away, and while I wanted our embrace to continue, I was so white hot that I was about to combust if he didn’t get inside me in the next couple of seconds. I’d been turned on since the moment I’d seen him in the bar, wilting under the heat of his stare. And with every smile and smirk, my thighs clenched a little harder, my uterus contracted, and I went slick with desire.

I quickly worked to unbutton his shirt, to expose more of the hard definition hidden from view. I saw his abs before I saw his hard chest, slabs of concrete that were hot from being exposed to the sun. Beautiful skin covered in the fresco of ink he had designed across his body. I didn’t usually prefer a man with tattoos, but when done right, it was art.

And his were a masterpiece.

“Hurry,” I said breathlessly, not recognizing my own voice because I’d never begged a man to fuck me.

He pulled his shirt free as a smirk moved over his lips.

It should piss me off, but it turned me on even more.

He unbuttoned his black jeans, kicked off his boots, and then yanked off the boxers underneath, a naked god at the foot of the bed.

Oh lord have mercy.

He had the lines over his hips where the muscles of his abs were separated from his hips. He was the first man I’d seen with an eight-pack, with nothing but muscle under tight skin, with veins popped from the flesh because of how tight everything was. I wasn’t sure what I liked the most—his chest or his arms or his stomach. I hadn’t seen his ass yet, but I was certain I’d add it to the list.

He finally came back to the bed, his knees making the mattress shift as he moved over me. He slid his hand across my stomach to my side, where the hidden zipper of my dress was located. He somehow knew it was there, like he’d spotted it in advance so he’d know how to take off my dress. He yanked it down, the dress came loose, and he started to pull it off me.


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