Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
He took his time before he moved close to her. He didn’t look at her face, but rather at her breasts. “You shouldn’t have missed your appointments with me, Flambé. That will not happen again. From now on, no one is more important in your life. No one. Nothing. You make certain you put us first always.”
He spoke in that same low tone. No inflection. No harshness. Just a soft decree. He reached out and gently ran his finger over her right breast, down her aching nipple, and then flicked it hard with his thumb and finger. Heat burst through her and she jumped. He bent his head and sucked her breast into his mouth. She cried out, her legs nearly giving out as pleasure washed over her. Just as abruptly he lifted his head.
“The matter of the club is a much graver offense. You didn’t know me before cancelling the appointments with me and I believe you thought you had good reason, so that is forgivable. You saw me at the club and you should have confessed to me immediately, especially after Shturm claimed Flamme. You knew you were wrong for that. Don’t speak. I don’t want to hear excuses.”
He stepped away from her and studied her body, the rope still moving through his hands. “This will be a very simple piece as well. Not telling me about the club is another matter altogether.”
He moved behind her and made a simple wrap around her hips twice. At once she could feel the difference in the texture of the rope. The halter was smooth and, although tight, felt nice against her skin. She needed tight. She liked firm pressure. This rope was prickly. Again, Sevastyan worked fast, the knots forming a thong, sliding between her cheeks, positioning perfectly, pulling tight and coming right over the hood of her clit to attach to the two ropes that circled her hips. He pulled the lines even tauter and she gasped as with every movement the knots rubbed and inflamed her body.
He pulled on the ropes as if testing them and each time he did, flames shot through her. She cried out, need burning through her, hips jerking uncontrollably.
“Stay still, I need to make certain these knots are correct.” His tone was low, the same, as if she was an inanimate object and his art was all that mattered.
He knew the knots were perfect. He was being a devil. She didn’t know if she wanted him to be the devil. That only added to the fiery need building and coiling tighter and tighter until she thought she might go insane.
Sevastyan slid his fingers under the knotted rope and gently ran his knuckles up her belly to her breasts. The knots tugged and rolled over her clit and rubbed and burned deliciously between her cheeks, inflaming every sensitive bundle of nerves she had. His index finger began to brush back and forth under her breast, tracing the curve very gently.
“When you were spying on me at the club, which pose made you want me the most, Flambé? Which was the one that made you decide you had to be with me?”
He bent forward and took her left breast into the heat of his mouth, sucking hard, his tongue fluttering against her nipple and then pressing it tight against the roof of his mouth while his fingers played the rope like a harp, setting the knots dancing over her sex again, setting her on fire. The combination shook her entire being.
She couldn’t find her voice. She was helpless, unable to touch him, when she wanted to cradle his head to her breast and keep him there. She was unable to reach that place that would let her fly, although she needed to get there so badly. She wanted that knot to rub and burn over her clit and at the same time she desperately wanted it to stop. The knots running between her cheeks were producing the most erotic sensations, sending waves of heat crashing through her. He added his teeth to the mix, an unexpected tug and sting on her nipple, making her cry out.
“Answer me, Flambé. Which pose?”
Her mind was in utter chaos. She loved him best this way. So in charge. So distant. So arrogant. So completely Sevastyan Amurov. She tried to force air into her lungs, to find a way to breathe through the raging firestorm so she could get to a place where she could think.
“Sevastyan.”
He bit down again and she cried out as the sting sent waves of dizzying fire blasting through her, threatening to send her over the edge, but stopping just short. She tried to find relief against that knot, but it wasn’t working. She couldn’t get there no matter how hard she tried.
“Flambé. You look so beautiful just like this. Open your eyes and look in the mirrors. Look at yourself. And then tell me.”