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Degrade

T.L Smith

Copyright 2015 TL Smith

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

WARNING

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Cover - LM Creations

Formatting - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Angels-Indie-formatting

Editing by Swish Design & Editing

Proofread – KMS Editing

Cover image Copyright 2015

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Sasha's Dilemma (Dilemma #1)

Adam’s Heaven (Dilemma #1.5)

Sasha’s Demons (Dilemma #2)

Krinos (Take Over #1)

Kalon (Take Over #2)

Kratos (Take Over #3)

Pure Punishment (Standalone)

Antagonize Me (Standalone)

If you want to keep updated, simply join my mailing list. By clicking here.

http://goo.gl/qEqXsP

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One rule. Only one rule women need to follow when they're with me.

Don’t ask for more.

This rule is in place for a reason; you won't get more of what’s not there to give.

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He is striking, and he's all man. He is also the devil, or so I believe him to be. I gave him my heart, not realizing I was doing so. He likes to break me down, so I'm a shell of the person I once was. He's chipping away at me, bit by bit. Though I’m not as weak as he thinks, and when I can’t handle it anymore, I will come back swinging.

If you are reading this, you brought my book. * Happy Dance*

Thank you for supporting my dream, I heart each and every one of you.

Love Hard

T.L Smith

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Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Notes

All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name.

~Andre Breton~

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I’m an idiot, I know this. I just can’t help myself. When it comes to him, I do as he says, and do as he pleases. Even if it’s against everything I believe in. He has a hold on me, which no other person has ever held. I don’t believe he loves me, but I love him. So that has to count for something. Right? My love is big enough. I believe it can hold onto both of us and wrap us up in a vice grip. See, I did tell you, I’m an idiot.

These are my thoughts as soon as I wake, and it happens every time. No matter what, they consume me. I guess I’m trying to make myself believe that my love will be enough. That it is enough. Though, as I reach my hand out to touch his toned and chiseled body, my thoughts take a back burner. I run my hand along his stomach, slowing wanting it to go lower. Just as I reach his waistband, he clasps my hand in his and stops me. Throwing my hand to the side, he steps from the bed, not even flinging me a backward glance. My heart breaks that little bit each time he does this to me. I’m afraid if nothing changes, and I don’t receive the tiniest bit of affection, I will become a shell of the person I was. I will basically become his whore, only there for when he needs to fuck and nothing more. Never to make love. It’s purely sexual, an animal act. There’s never a trace of love when it comes to him.

I watch as he walks from the shower, dripping wet. This makes my pussy come to life with just the look of him. He’s what I’d say the devil sculpted. Why the devil you ask? Because God would never be so cruel as to make a man so perfect as him to torture me. He’d give me a man to love, a man that would show me an ounce of love back. So, he must be the devil. He’s perfect in every way, except the way that counts.

The heart.

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a heart. And that alone breaks my heart again. Even though I know he doesn’t love me, I love him. I believe that’s enough. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

~William Shakespeare~

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His hands are on my hips and he’s smiling brightly as my father, who’s also smiling, tells a story. I try to plaster on the best smile I can muster. But it’s fake, it’s as fake as my feelings. Tragger looks down at me. He’s taller, but his arm is wrapped tightly around my hip like he knows I’m going to run. I might. I probably would, if he wasn’t holding me so tightly. His size and strength sometimes makes me feel small. He’s very handsome, I’m not going to deny that. And I do love him, I won’t deny that either. Just not in the way I should. It’s more of a brotherly love, a friendship type of love. One I don’t want to lose, but I do know I should let go. It’s not right for either of us.

“Dance with me,” he says pulling me to the dance floor behind him. Most of our co-workers surround us lost in their own moves with their loved ones. I try to imagine a world where I love this man, where I’d wake and not have panic attacks thinking I won’t ever be in love. I want that love people talk about, and I don’t wish to settle because that’s what people say is best.

I thought when I met Tragger that maybe I could grow to love him, more like the way a girlfriend should love her boyfriend. But it never came, every time he touched me, there were no sparks. Every time his lips touched mine, no ignition. I tried to brush it aside, brush away that doubt that’s always creeping in. Maybe I’m not destined to be in love, but just to be loved by someone else. Tragger whispers in my ear that he loves me, and I can’t say it as much as I want to, so I lay my head on his shoulder. I believe he may love me; just not the way I think we should love each other. He’s a good man and an even better friend. That’s why it’s so hard to do what I know should be done.