Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
I don’t bother lying, I simply nod my head.
“This is going to be a good fucking first date, wouldn’t you say?”
Oh, hell, yes. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I am ready for him.
Lord fucking help me.
7
He gets up as a predator would, coming for their prey, ready to capture it, devour it. But instead of fear, excitement sits ready and waiting inside of me for what he’ll give me. Before he touches me, he shrugs off his coat jacket, followed by kicking off his shoes. Looking around, I notice the yacht isn’t docked anymore, but I can still see the city lights.
“Your staff.”
He smirks offering me his hand. “Wouldn’t worry about them, bunny. It should be you you’re worried about.”
But I’m not. I’m excited about the possibilities this night can bring.
Placing my hand in his is probably the stupidest—or could it be the smartest—thing I’ll ever do. I’m ready to take that risk, though, so I do just that, standing up and bringing my body flush with his.
He takes one deep breath, breathing me in. “I’ve never been so vanilla. You make me like the taste of vanilla, bunny.” I don’t understand his words, so I say nothing.
He reaches for my shoulder and turns me around, so my back is to him. Then he unzips my dress and it drops to the floor, leaving me in a white bra and panties.
“You look like heaven. But I want to sin.” His hand threads through mine and he pulls me to the front of the yacht where all we can see is blackness. There’s no one else, just us. I can hear his breathing, hear my own heavy breaths as he slides his hand up my naked back, over my bra strap until he reaches my throat.
“We shouldn’t.” But my words are a lie.
His mouth comes to the back of my neck, and I can feel his lips move into a smile. “Do you want to play that game, or should I take it from you, bunny?”
My instincts tell me to shake my head, but I do no such thing.
Gunner’s hand comes down to my ass, and he slaps it. “Tell me, bunny, do you want me to take it?” His rough hand slides between my legs and he cups me. His hand applies pressure and I feel it everywhere, but he makes no move to shift it. “If you don’t speak, bunny, I’ll have to move away. Is that what you want?”
“Is this all we will be? Sex?”
“That isn’t the answer I want, bunny.” His voice is hard, and I know I’m making him angry.
“Fuck me, Gunner. Fuck me now.”
He makes me bad.
Oh, so fucking bad.
And when he pushes my panties aside and slides one finger into my wet and pulsating pussy, I know this is what we are.
Sex.
He is sex.
He reeks of it.
It’s part of the reason May chose him in the first place, because he was hot. It could have gone the other way. Let’s face it, she could have chosen someone I wasn’t attracted to. But May wants me to be happy, and that’s part of the reason I love her.
“Your wish is my command.” He bites my ear. Hard.
If this is all our relationship will be, I think I can handle it. For now, anyway. I’ve never been so dominated, and never once have I gotten this turned on by a man. He makes me want things I shouldn’t—sex, a whole lot of naughty, unforgivable great sex.
Leaning back, I turn to face him, but he holds me still, unable to move as I feel him against me. Looking down, I can see his pants are still on, but his cock’s out.
“Tell me you want me, bunny.”
I breathe desperately as I feel him there. His finger sliding out of me, replacing them with something thicker, longer, harder. “I want you.”
He nips at my neck. “And?”
“And only you.”
Gunner pushes inside of me. His hand that was holding me is now sneaking around to my breast which he grabs roughly, pulling at my nipples as he pushes farther inside me.
“Good girl.” He says it with no emotion. I can’t ever seem to hear any emotion from him, unless it’s anger. That emotion is dished out in droves. He confuses the shit out of me.
Hands roam my breasts, pinching at each nipple as he drives inside me, in and out, punishing me for something I didn’t know I needed punishment for.
I don’t care, though, despite the pain he’s inflicting—and believe me, there’s a pain. My nipples feel like they’re on fire, my neck has bite marks that I can feel burning through my skin. The thing is, I’m enjoying it.
I don’t understand it.
I don’t know why.
But I do.
Maybe it’s all him.
Or maybe my past lovers were gentle men, and I didn’t know this is the type of sex I wanted.