Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Then the fantasy and reality merge when the calluses of his palm scratch the sides of my neck. I pop my eyes open, expecting him to be above me, but he’s sitting next to me, left hand on my throat, eyes locked on the slow rhythmic pace I’ve set with the dildo.
“Faster,” he orders again.
I clamp my thighs together around my hand to hide the sight of me from him. He doesn’t own me. His neck flushes pink, and then he uses his right hand to pry my knees apart and leave them butterflied open on the bed.
I’m panting, both from his rough handling and the dildo still inside me. Now, I’m chasing the orgasm. The faster I come, the faster I can get the hell away from him before I do something stupid like climb him like a tree and beg him to hurt me.
My thighs are slick with my own arousal, and I tense when his fingers curl around the fleshy part of my thigh toward my center. “Slower.”
I huff and continue the pace I already set. “A moment ago, you were screaming faster. Now you want slower?”
His hand tightens the tiniest fraction, and it’s enough to steal any other words in my head. The clench of his fingers is enough to start the long fall toward my orgasm. When he tosses my hand off the dildo and seizes it, I almost come right then. One of his hands locked on my throat, the other slowly, achingly slow, sliding the silicone dick inside me. But he doesn’t leave it. He pulls it almost completely out so I can feel the wide crown pressing back into my entrance with a slight sting. “Fuck,” I groan, unable to maintain my composure. No. My pride when this shit is happening right now.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me,” I choke out, his palm constricting my voice slightly.
He doesn’t answer, as if his entire being is focused on fucking me with the fake dildo. I snap my hands up to grab at it. To stop this. But he slaps them away. Again, I try to take it. This time he leans down to align his face with mine, his hand squeezing tighter. “I said fucking no. Now lie still while I fucking ruin that beautiful cunt.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to invite him to do it with his own dick, but I can’t get a word out due to the strength of his grip. I can still breathe, but speaking is useless.
He pumps the cock into me faster, my channel gripping along the ridges. I’m so close to coming, and a hot tear leaks out of the corner of my eye. I need it more than I need to breathe right now.
Like he can read my mind, he increases the pace and changes the angle, so the top of the dildo grazes near my clit. It’s not much but combined with everything else. With the slightly spicy scent of his skin, the rough calluses on his palm, the way he’s so transfixed by my body. All of it sends me down the spiral of the most violent orgasm I’ve ever had. It wrecks me, burning and rebuilding as it rolls through my body. Every inch of me quakes in his grasp.
“Yes,” he whispers. “Take my cock like a good little girl, and I might give you a reward.”
His eyes are shiny, and I can tell he’s in the heaviest and hardest part of the drug now. In a moment, he’ll get sluggish, literally aching with the need to fuck anything that is moving.
“Ivan,” I whisper, trying to draw his attention, but he’s still focused on the dildo as he eases it gently in and out of me. I try to pry his hand loose enough to speak properly, but his grip is like iron. He could choke me out in a few seconds, and I’d be powerless to stop him.
For some reason, that makes me roll my hips up into the dildo, needing more of this. I need more of him.
The door bursts open in a crash, but he doesn’t even glance up. I look over and catch sight of the men who should have arrived sooner. Shit. They’re here because of me.
What have I done, condemning him to a fate I’ve lived with for years? For my freedom…
Dammit. I can’t do this. I open my mouth to warn Ivan, but one of the guards is already at his neck, a needle inserted, and the plunger depressed.
Ivan wavers on his feet, and I swear I caught hurt in his eyes before he closes them and sinks to the floor in a way too beautiful heap.
A guard throws my dress at me. “Get dressed. The boss will want to see you.”