Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She’s in denial, thinking—or hoping—I don’t mean it, but I’ll wrench a yes if not a pretty please from her yet.
I advance another step, forcing her to take one back. “Do I look like a man who jokes about anything?”
She flicks out her tongue to wet those soft, luscious lips. “I told you I forgot.”
We walk toe to toe like dancers, me directing and she following my lead.
“Forgetfulness is an unfortunate characteristic,” I say, folding my right sleeve up to my elbow.
Her delicate jaw sets into a hard line. “Your spy told you. You were there.” When her backside hits the table, she stresses her point. “You were present when the police questioned me.”
I chuckle. “It’s the principle that matters. You neglected to call me, disobeying a direct order, and I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” she says, catching her weight with her palms on the table as I lean into her space. “I promise.”
“Yes,” I drawl, inhaling the intoxicating smell of summer on her skin and in her hair. “After the lesson you’re about to learn, it won’t.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
Studying the elegant arch of her neck, I fold back the other sleeve one more time. No, I don’t have to. There are crueler and more effective punishments, but I won’t starve her or lock her in a dark basement. I won’t submit her to the adverse effects of such treatment, and it’s not only because she’s pregnant.
Since last night, she’s my most valuable asset. My stay-out-of-jail card. I need her alive. I can’t take risks with her wellbeing. As long as I value my freedom, I’ll take real good care of her, and I take my freedom damn well seriously.
Besides, a perverse part of me is curious to test my reaction to her further. Judging by how I almost combust from her nearness, last night wasn’t an isolated incident. If this is how turned on I get from the sight of her dressed in her faded blue sundress, I don’t know what her naked body will do to me. Yes, I’m a deviant man, and yes, I don’t own an ounce of principles.
My tone is uncompromising. “Turn around.”
Her pulse beats in her throat. Instead of obeying, she locks her arms and braces herself in a pose of resistance.
“I’ll tie you up if I have to.” I brush a glossy curl from her face. “I won’t mind binding your hands and feet to the table.” I lower my voice. “On the contrary, I’d like that.” I add with huskiness I can’t hide, “Very much.”
I mean it. I’d love to play tie-up with her, to render her helpless, ruffle her prim and proper demeanor, and see just how hard I can make her come. I don’t just want to wrestle consent from her perfect, lithe body. I want her pleasure. I want her to beg for my cock. On her knees. I want her to look at me and see a god. Her god.
Her slender throat convulses as she swallows. She watches me with those huge, whisky-colored eyes as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m for real.
Gripping her waist, I show her just how real I can get when I spin her around. She utters a gasp and catches the sides of the table. Her body is flush against mine, her tight, round ass pushed against my groin.
Fuck.
She passes the test with flying colors.
My reaction is much more volatile than anything I could’ve imagined. With my dick cushioned in the crack of her ass, I’m ready to shoot my load, which is a first for me. No woman has driven me to the point of coming in my pants without laying a finger on me.
But Anya is unlike any woman I’ve had before.
Our dynamic is different.
Her life is mine and mine alone. No one has ever belonged to me so completely.
Despite keeping perfectly still, making sure I don’t rub myself over her, my cock pulses as if it has a life of its own. She can’t not feel my length that rests like a steel rod against her ass. Indeed, she stopped breathing, her ribcage no longer expanding with breaths. If she’s surprised, so am I. That she makes me this hard, this eager, catches me off guard. I had no fucking idea I was into spanking, not until her.
“Let me go,” she says, glaring at me from over her shoulder.
I’m trapping her with my body against the table. It’s pretty damn clear I have no intention of letting her go. Ever.
I sweep a palm up her back, tracing the delicate line of her spine. “Your life is mine, treasure. I can do anything to you, whatever I want, and you know it.”
She freezes at the statement.
“Don’t worry.” I bend down and press the promise with a whisper on her ear. “I’m not going to fuck you.” Straightening, I keep my hold on her back but give her a little space to maneuver. “Now be a good girl and pull up your dress.”