Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Now, Lexi!”
She screams, a sound from deep in her throat, her vaginal muscles squeezing my length until we both ride out our orgasms.
Easing my finger from her ass, I pull her down on top of me, holding her as we both catch our breaths.
When the beating of her heart against my chest slows, she lifts her head. “I love you.”
My lids droop. Hearing the sweet words from Lexi’s lips was even better than the sex. Why had I resisted emotional attachment in a relationship? I’d been denying myself the full package. Making Lexi mine–owning her–because that’s what is hot to me–is more than a physical arrangement. It’s about holding her heart.
Taking delicate-fucking care of her sweet, sensitive soul.
It’s about giving it all, so I can have it all.
“I love you so fucking much,” I growl, rolling her to her back to kiss the hell out of her.
Epilogue
Janine and Juliana help me pick it out, one of them driving the car over to the apartment and the other following to transport home.
“We don’t get to stay and watch when you give it to her?”
“Sorry, girls. Some things are private. Thanks for your help, though. I’ll let Lexi know you chose it for her.”
They picked a brand new, dark blue Mercedes Cabriolet convertible for Lexi’s birthday. She maintains she doesn’t need a car, but I know her life would be simpler if she had one, and the sooner she releases any remaining fear she has from her accident, the better.
I’ve been trying to ease all her stresses, one by one. My attorney had her tax fraud case dismissed before it ever reached any charges. I also paid off the trumped up liability.
She confessed about the medical bills. I cleared that debt as well.
Both the IRS and the FBI have dropped their investigations after failing to find anything damning about me or the mayor. Carlo had a conversation with Stacy outside the FBI’s building the day they interrogated her. I’m not sure what was said, but I haven’t heard from her since.
Taking care of Lexi still gives me a high but no longer from the expectation of wielding power over her. Now it comes from the genuine desire to express my love, to show Lexi how much I cherish her. Not that I don’t pull the power play every chance I get.
I take the elevator upstairs, fiddling with the key in my pocket, surprised at how nervous I am.
I really want her to like it.
I open the door and meet her as she comes dashing out of the bedroom to greet me, a big smile on her face. I hand her a bouquet of roses and stargazer lilies then pull her body against mine, delivering a sensuous kiss to her glossed lips. “Happy birthday,” I murmur.
“Thank you.” She presses her breasts against my ribs.
I run my hands down her sides and in a circle over her perfect ass. “Your present is in the car, are you ready for it?”
“Yes! Let me just slip my shoes on.” Lexi’s shoes are a pair of blue sandals with a thin platform heel which make her sculpted calves look incredible.
“You look beautiful.” I put a hand at her low back, guiding her out.
She chatters away on the elevator ride down, but I honestly don’t hear a word she says because I’m thinking about my gift. I hope the thought of driving doesn’t intimidate her too much, making the present a poke at her sore spot.
I lead her across the parking garage, where the new car sits with a giant white bow tied around the top.
“We’ll take this one,” I say when we round the corner to face it.
She stops, her eyes widening, her jaw falling open. “Oh my God! Is this for me? This is mine?”
“Yeah.” My mouth is dry. I didn’t know why this makes me so nervous—it’s not a wedding proposal or anything. “I want you to start driving again. But it has some strings attached.”
She doesn’t respond at first, still adjusting to the shock of the eighty-thousand-dollar gift. After a few beats, she swivels to look at me, her mouth curving into a seductive smile. “What strings?” She slides a hand up the lapel of my jacket.
“I’m thinking something like a weekly blowjob, and,” –I pull a silver choker out of my pocket and hold it up– “you wear my collar. It means I own you.”
The necklace is a series of large silver dots—a tasteful, contemporary piece, classy enough to wear anywhere.
“But you already do.” She turns her back to me, lifting her hair from her neck so I can put it on.
“I do.” I kiss her neck. “But now you’ll have the collar to prove it.”
“And what happens if I forget to wear it?” She turns back to me, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.