Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I didn’t anticipate tonight going like this.
Tied down to his bed, wanting to please him, needing him to take me. For years I’ve hardened, for years I’ve tried to move on. And in a single night, every piece of me is his again.
The bed groans when he leans over me, his naked body brushing against mine. His erection slips against my heated core, yet he doesn’t enter me, no matter how much I beg. His breath is warm as he murmurs, “There is so much I could do to you right now to get you off.”
He brings the whip to between my legs, the soft leather floating against my clit. I’m already hypersensitive, but Gabriel knows me so well. Leaning in, he kisses me as another orgasm sweeps through me, swallowing my moans. I’m still quaking as Gabriel gets between my legs and slides inside me, hissing as my clenching walls grip him.
Oh my God. My head falls back in unadulterated pleasure.
“I love how you feel wrapped around my cock,” Gabriel whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into me again.
The truth is, I’m falling . . . no, I’ve fallen in love with Gabriel again. Wholly and completely. With every thrust of his cock inside me, I feel myself slipping over the edge, tumbling further and further into a world where I’m Kiersten again, not Madam Lynn.
It would destroy me if he ever left me again.
“Kiersten,” Gabriel grunts in between deep, powerful thrusts. “Look at me.”
I open my eyes, gazing up into his handsome face as he takes me like I’ve always been his. The burning fire in his eyes warms me, tells me that he’s the same way.
“Gabriel,” I whisper, wishing I was untied so I could clutch him. Instead, I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing me in deeper with each stroke. “Gabriel . . . Gabriel . . .”
“Kiersten, I—” Gabriel starts, but a sharp crash splits through the room. Gabriel covers me, his arms around my upper body, and as he stills, a scream leaves me in terror.
What the hell just happened? A cool breeze blows over us, and other than my heavy breathing, I can only hear the tinkling of glass.
“The window?” I ask, my heart racing. I’m brought down from the highest of highs immediately. Gabriel’s phone vibrates on the nightstand as he unbinds my wrists.
“Are you okay?” Gabriel asks first, snatching the other end of the bow knot holding my wrists together and releasing me. Concern is etched on his face.
“I’m fine . . . but your window . . . Broken glass,” I reply, my eyes finding the curtain that’s now fluttering in the wind. “What . . . watch yourself.”
Gabriel nods, getting off the bed and slipping his shoes on to walk carefully over to something on the carpet. He squats down, picking up a rock.
His expression is stern, and again, his phone goes off. It’s faint and I almost didn’t hear it. I wonder if it’s been going off the entire time.
“What is it?” I ask, reaching over and grabbing a sheet, holding it to my chest as the chill flows into the room. I can’t help but feel like a damsel in distress, lying naked in bed with a sheet clutched to my chest like a string of pearls. It’s ridiculous, but at the same time, I can’t deny that I’m scared.
“What is it?” I repeat, and Gabriel only glances at me before going to get his phone.
He knows something. Anger threatens as I realize he means to keep this from me.
“Tell me right now, what’s going on?” His eyes lock with mine, and he only hesitates a fraction of a second.
“There’s a note,” Gabriel says, taking a piece of paper off the rock. Carefully, he unfolds it, reading aloud. “I know what you did. You never should have come back. Leave her alone.”
My blood chills. “It’s a threat?” I can barely get the words out, my throat is so tight. I’ve had issues in the past, but never a fucking brick thrown through my window. No one even knows where I live.
“From who?”
“I don’t know.” He’s straightforward, and I nearly ask him who’s messaged him when he picks up his phone, but he tells me it’s Joshua and that he’s already on it.
“What the hell?” I ask, swallowing my heart. “Gabriel, call the police.”
“No,” he says, folding the note up and putting it on the dresser. “No cops.”
“Gabriel, I—”
“Kiersten, this isn’t connected to the club or to Madam Lynn. This is connected to our past,” Gabriel says. Then he asks me a question that fills me with dread. “It has to be. Who did you tell about Ivan?”
He stares back at me as if I’d ever tell a soul.
I swallow thickly, needing to clear my throat before I answer. “Ivan?” I ask, and even twenty years later, a chill goes down my spine at the mention of that man’s name. “No one.”