Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
“They are.”
My pulse races at his confession, and the blood rushes in my ears. Suddenly, the room is too hot, and I tug at my shirt, needing some fresh air.
“I can’t wait to see you dressed in nothing but them.”
I never understood the meaning of butterflies in your stomach until now. Nothing about his words are vulgar, but the thought of standing in front of him naked makes me nervous. Terrified actually. I’ve always wanted this, yet I’m still afraid of what’s to come. What he’ll do to me once I’m his. Last night, I was drunk, but now I’m sober and realize he’ll be able to do whatever he wants to me in three weeks.
Avoiding his stare, I pick up the leather straps. I hold two in my hand. “What are these for?” I ask, although I have an idea.
“You’ll wear these for the vow ceremony,” he answers.
My eyes snap up to his. That butterfly sensation intensifies. “Ceremony?”
He holds the one in his hand out, and I give him a nod, like I’m curious. I’ve watched some fucked-up shit when it comes to porn. I know damn well what they are. But I’ll let him think he’s teaching me something. I have no problem dumbing myself down for a man who wants to feel superior. Especially if it’s Saint. Sacrifices must be made in our lives.
He wraps the rough leather around my small wrist, buckling it in place. Then he turns it to where the small silver ring is at the top.
I pick up the second one that matches it in the box and hold it out to him with shaky hands. He places it on my other wrist as well. The leather that lines the insides, rub against my skin and make my arms heavy. “And these?” I point at the ones just a tad longer in length.
“They’re for your ankles.”
A tingle runs up my spine. I’ll be strapped down when he takes my virginity. For some reason, that thought never crossed my mind. Did I expect it to be on a bed of roses with candles lit all around us while soft music played in the background? No. But I didn’t think it’d be a BDSM scene either. Is he going to whip me too?
“So…” I stop myself, unable to finish my question. My breathing comes quicker and quicker. I’m excited but also nervous. I’ve read where fear can feel the same as excitement. So the fact that my underwear is soaked, I’d say both turn me on.
“It’s going to hurt.” My pussy clenches, and he reaches up, pushing my hair from my face. “But I promise to make it feel better later.”
Translation—when we’re alone.
“We’ve got to give them a show,” he continues at my silence.
A show? “You want me to fake it?” I ask. Maybe my mother was right. She’s been through this before and knows exactly what will happen.
“You won’t ever have to fake it, sweetheart.” He smirks. “If I want you to come, you’ll come. If I don’t want you to, you won’t.”
I frown, not understanding. “Why wouldn’t you want me to come?” I’ve never seen a video where a woman doesn’t get off. Usually, they come over and over. They make it look like the best type of torture.
He chuckles. “I have so much to teach you.” Leaning in, he gives my forehead a gentle kiss and then turns to walk toward my door.
My pulse races, and I step forward. “Teach me something now,” I rush out.
Stopping, he places his hands in his pockets and turns to face me once again. I hold my breath, waiting for him to leave. We’re not allowed to do anything together. We’ve both gone this long, what’s three more weeks? But the fact that he’s here in my room, and I now know that he’ll be my Lord, I don’t want him to leave. I’m desperate to keep him here for as long as possible.
I look down at the box, desperately trying to find something. A shiny silver thing gets my attention. It’s got a latch on either side. There are four of them, but I pick up one. “What is this?”
He takes it from me, answering, “It’s a double-ended bolt snap.”
I frown. Sounds like it belongs in a garage, not in the bedroom. “Will you show me what it’s for?”
Stepping back, he slowly looks me up and down. I want to ask if he wanted me to be his chosen or if he got stuck with me. But does it really matter? No. He’s the one I’ve hoped to serve, and I won’t ask why I was so lucky.
“Get undressed,” he orders.
I lift my eyes to meet his, and I stare at him in disbelief, but my nipples harden at the way his voice changes. Authoritative. Commanding. I have the urge to disobey to see if he rips them off me, but I don’t want to take the chance of him leaving.