Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t deny it. I don’t say go on, with you, or question his sanity. And for once in my life, I don’t even doubt he speaks the truth. For once… I feel beautiful. Under his powerful, heated gaze, for once I know that I am.
So I say the only response I can. “Thank you.” I give him a teasing look. “And you, sir, aren’t too hard on the eyes either.”
The corner of his lips twitch as he slowly removes his clothes. I realize with a sudden thump of my heart that he still wears the damn harness, complete with heavy metal weapons, guns and knives. He shrugs out of the sleeves of the harness and places it in his closet, then shuts and locks the door as if to signal he’s clocking out.
He turns back to me and grabs the bottom of his t-shirt, yanking it up and over his head. He slings it toward the hamper. Next comes his belt, thick black leather, that he folds in his hands and snaps. I jump, and arousal pulses between my thighs. He crosses the room to me, belt in hand, and when he reaches me, he gives my naked leg a teasing swat.
“You’ve been a bad girl, Megan, haven’t you?”
“The worst,” I say, and though I’m only flirting at first, I do feel a little guilty. Poor Fiona probably got lectured by Nolan and Lachlan, and that’s none too pleasant.
“Did you put Fiona in danger?” he asks.
“Welllll…” I bite my lip.
He nods thoughtfully. “On your knees, belly down,” he says. “Grab onto the headboard.”
I shiver in anticipation. Will he punish me?
I do what he says as I hear him come up behind me. In silence, he drags the folded leather down over my shoulders, my back and my arse, until I shiver. He teases the sensitive skin until little goose pimples rise all over.
The only warning is the hiss of leather through air before he strikes me across my upper thighs. I hiss out in pain, but grip the headboard as he instructed, and before I’ve recovered from the first lash, another lands.
In between strokes of his belt, he caresses my inner thighs, drags the leather between my legs and over my shoulders before he brings it down hard again.
Soon, I’m sinking into the moment, the erotic pull of dominance and submission as he orchestrates perfect, measured pain, the cadence of the swish and slap of leather almost soothing. I sigh and moan, rocking my hips as he continues, until I’m lightheaded and dizzy with arousal.
He drags the leather between my legs and pulls, and I wantonly rock my hips for friction.
“Touch yourself,” he says. “One hand between your legs.”
I obey, dragging my fingers through my private, most sensitive parts while he continues the slow, deliberate lashes with his belt.
“I want you to associate this pain with pleasure,” he says. “You’re almost already there. Almost.”
I stroke myself as he spanks me, until the belt drops to the floor and I’m right at the very precipice of climaxing. I feel him behind me, his cock at my entrance.
“Stop.” His command cuts like a whip. I freeze, my hand trembling. His hand cups me, and he glides his own fingers through my arousal.
“Bloody hell,” he says with a guttural grown. “You’re fucking soaked.”
“I am,” I pant. “You—you spanked me.”
I say this as if it’s his fault I’m aroused. He grins, bends, and bites my shoulder. “I did. You earned it.”
I moan and whimper. “I did.”
He glides his cock through my wetness until he’s fully within me.
“Sir,” I breathe. “Oh fuck.”
He bites my shoulder again as he gives me a good, sharp thrust. I grip the bedpost for support, as his thick, swollen cock fills me.
“Good girl,” he says. “God, woman, you’re so good to me.”
He impales me with another savage thrust that threatens to break me in two, and I whimper with need and want.
“I love you, Megan,” he says, rocking his hips and gliding in and out of me. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” I tell him, and even though he’s in me I’m dying to get even closer to him. And maybe this is it. The proclamations of love to join us together, so neither of us wonders. So neither feels alone.
I’m getting closer and closer to climax with every perfect, vicious thrust of his cock. His fingers dig into my hips so firmly, I wonder if he’ll leave marks. A little part of me wants him to.
His low, tortured groan mingles with mine as we reach the point of climax. I throw my head back and his mouth comes to my neck, licking and suckling, until he moans with unbridled pleasure, thrusts one last time, and his seed lashes in me.