Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Okay, princess.” I pull my finger out and give her ass one last slap. “It’s time for the Viking to have his way with you.”
I stand, scooping and rolling her up into my arms. I carry her back to the bedroom where I had the pleasure of guarding her this morning.
I toss her in the center of the bed and pull my discarded bowtie from the pocket of my tuxedo pants.
Her dark locks fall across her shoulders. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy from her spanking. Those full lips look so damn kissable.
She scoots back on the bed like she means to run again. I can tell it’s just for play, by the mischievous twist to her lips.
I tug both ends of the bow tie and make it snap. The moment she tries to bolt over the edge of the bed, I reach out and grab her ankle, dragging her back. “Where do you think you’re going, my pretty dove?”
I catch her wrists and tie them together with my bow tie.
She studies me in that intelligent way she has. ”How do you know my name means dove? Do you speak Spanish?”
I nod. “Not well. But I have a passing knowledge of a dozen languages.“
Her brows pop.
“Viking is one of them.” I wink.
She laughs, as I hoped she would. Obviously, I know it’s Norse.
I unbutton my tuxedo shirt. It was already open at the throat and halfway untucked from my pants, rumpled from our quick escape and being slept in. Paloma sits up on the bed and watches.
She rubs her lips together when my undershirt comes off, eyeing my hairy chest. I unbutton the tuxedo pants and slide them off with my silk boxers. My cock springs out, standing at attention. Ready for action. It’s been low-level throbbing ever since she touched it through my pants last night. Right now it’s so hard, I fear it could break off.
Paloma’s gaze drops to it, and while her eyes widen again, she doesn’t seem daunted. Of course, she doesn’t know what she doesn’t know.
I climb on the bed and catch her bound wrists. I lift them over her head, then use them to slowly lever her onto her back. With her wrists pinned above her head, I hold her down and give her a long, slow kiss.
“Mmm.” She squirms beneath me.
Her body is soft and lush. I adore her curves. That there’s enough meat on her bones to fill my hands.
I cup her breast and squeeze. I lower my mouth to one of her nipples and roll my tongue over it, then suck hard. I let my teeth scrape the skin as I release and move to the other one.
Claim her.
My bear clamors for my attention, but I have none to spare for his demands. It’s Paloma’s beautiful body that occupies all of my focus.
I travel south, pushing her knees up and spreading them wide, so I can lick into her soft sex. She’s still dripping wet from her spanking and the taste of her honey nearly makes me shift into bear form right there.
No. I’m even more savage in keeping him down. I blink hard to change my eyes back to normal.
Not. Normal, my bear snarls.
I slam the door on his cage as I learned to do when I first moved to Manhattan. I suppress him, cram him into a tight little box way down below my belly where he can’t get out.
I need to be able to focus on Paloma. She has a fantasy she wants fulfilled, and I intend to make it perfect for her.
I slide my tongue between her labia, tracing around her inner lips and swirling over her clit. It’s work, but I manage to get my thumb inside her this time while I suck her clit.
She pants and struggles to accommodate me. I don’t feel any resistance, though. No cherry to pop. She’s just tight.
“You gonna take my big Viking cock, little dove?” Gone is the Wall Street hedge fund manager. He’s been replaced by the rough, wild bear man from New Mexico. But I’m supposed to be a Viking, not a bear.
Never a bear. I can’t regress to those days when my bear had more control than I did.
“No.” Paloma shakes her head, and for a moment, I think she means it, but then I realize she’s still playing the game where I hold her down and make her take it. Where I force her to do something the innocent maiden would never do of her own volition.
I can tell because she overacts. She shakes her head violently and pushes back at me with her bound wrists at the same time her knees try to drive me forward.
“Your safe word is Bad bear,” I tell her before I have a chance to censor my words. I never give out any personal details about myself. Especially not the name of the mountain where I come from or the animal that is my true nature.