Total pages in book: 230
Estimated words: 217798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1089(@200wpm)___ 871(@250wpm)___ 726(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1089(@200wpm)___ 871(@250wpm)___ 726(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
His tone doesn’t invite more discussion. The irony is that he knows everything about my family. He now owns a controlling interest in our company, but I know barely anything about them. Except that his uncle saved calves from being eaten.
“If you don’t miss your family,” he says, “and no one was rude to you, then why are you sad?”
He’s perceptive, my new husband. And persistent. I’ll have to get used to that. “I guess because I’m… afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know you. Or what this marriage will be like. What my life will be like. Everything’s changing, and I don’t even know what to expect.”
“I’ve told you what to expect.”
I make a scoffing sound. “You’ve told me that you’re controlling in the bedroom.”
Specifically, what he said was, I’ll keep you so sexed up, so blissed out on orgasms that you won’t care that much about how commanding I get. In fact I think you’ll learn to love it.
And I’ve looked up far too much about that in the three months since we met. Photos. Videos. Books. They make me feel strange, like my skin is too hot and tight. Aroused, that’s what they make me feel, though I’m not admitting that to him. Certainly not admitting it when he’s wearing a tux and I’m in a designer wedding gown.
“I also gave you a demonstration,” he reminds me.
My cheeks heat, remembering the feel of his tongue between my legs. “That wasn’t everything, though. It’s what I don’t know that scares me.”
“You want to make me come.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” My voice sounds choked. I’m embarrassed and...turned on. Why does the idea of making him come turn me on?
“You want to resent me,” he murmurs, as if he sees my internal struggle. “I’m the man who bought you. Forced you into marriage so you can save your family. I’m the villain, and you’re the noble princess. There’s no hero in this story, so don’t wait for someone to save you.”
“I’m not,” I snap, frustrated that he’s mocking me. I’m not a princess. I’m not some noble sacrifice. I’m not some dramatic young woman who doesn’t understand real life.
“Then learn how to please your husband.”
A prickle of warning runs over my skin. “Meaning what?”
“The same thing I did to you at the hotel. Get on your knees.”
It shouldn’t be demeaning. It isn’t. People perform this act in bedrooms around the world every day, at least that’s what I tell myself. And Francisco was on his knees between my legs a few hours ago. He wasn’t subservient to me, though. He was in control every second.
As I push aside my skirts and drop my knees to the carpet of the limo, I know that I’m not controlling any part of this. Here in the center of the floor, moonlight washes across my dress. I’m bathed in pale light. This is more than sex; it’s service.
It should be humiliating, but it only makes me burn hotter.
Francisco takes my face in his hands and looks down into my eyes. The expression he wears is thoughtful. Almost loving. “I’m not going to be nice,” he says. “But you are.”
He releases me to undo his pants, and it’s only in this moment that I understand what this is going to be. He’s huge and hard and slick in the faint moonlight, right at the very tip.
I’ve never done this before. With the way he is, and the things he wants…
My new husband grips his base in one hand and my chin in the other and pulls me inexorably forward until I’m hovering over him.
“I’m not in a particularly patient mood.” He says it gently, but I can tell he means it.
“You’ve been waiting since before the reception.”
“Longer. I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I saw you.”
The words make my blood race. I give his crown a tentative lick, and Francisco hisses. Maybe he was going to be more patient than he planned, but now he takes my head in both hands and holds me still so he can stroke into my mouth.
It’s a lot. He’s a lot. Too much, perhaps. He fills the available space with his first stroke and stops, his muscles tensed. “Suck,” he commands.
I don’t have any other choice. It’s either that or choke. I struggle with the sheer size of him on my tongue. He tastes clean, and I’ve never known anything to be so soft and so hard at the same time. So thick it makes my lips stretch around him.
Francisco lets me suck him, lets me swirl my tongue around him, until I get a hint of salty precum and he groans. It’s the least restrained sound I’ve heard him make. Fear shivers through me, but it’s not the kind that makes me want to scream and run. It’s the kind that makes me want to lean into whatever this is and ride it out.