Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“My job is to protect you, Savannah.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You’re definitely not a fucking child,” he says with another one of his groans.
I wriggle my wrists and narrow my eyes. “Then maybe I have a say in this.”
His eyes seem to pierce right through me. My heart beats faster. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shakes his head.
“Um, excuse me? Why don’t I?” How does he know what I know and what I don’t?
“Have you ever done anything kinky?”
I try to look away, but he grasps my chin and forces my gaze back to his.
I lick my lips. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious,” I respond. “I’ve only had lackluster sex, and it was so bad I regretted it.” I swallow and lick my lips, watching as his eyes follow my tongue. Even pinned beneath him, overpowered like this, I feel sexy and in control. “I want to see. I don’t want to hang out around here being the only kid not invited to the party.”
“Christ,” he curses. Then he nods, as if making up his mind. “So you have a fantasy in your head about what it’s like? I’ll show you what you want. But you’ll see, Savannah.” His eyes flash in warning. “It’s nothing like your romance books make it out to be.”
Well, that stings.
Jerk.
“How do you know I read romance?”
“It’s no secret. We all know you read romance. Nicolette told us.”
I will pay her back for this.
“Then what’s it like?” I ask. “I want to know.”
He studies me for long seconds as if deciding what to do with me. Finally, he shakes his head.
“I can’t answer that. I have to show you. It can be scary and erotic, educational and calming, and pretty much anything you want it to be.” Releasing me, he pushes out of bed. “Don’t move.” Shaking his head, he mutters, as if to himself, “I’m going to hell for this. I am so going to hell for this.”
Why does that excite me?
His boxers are tented in front of him, showcasing a gloriously long and thick hard-on, but he doesn’t seem bothered or embarrassed. My sex clenches.
“Stay there. Lace your fingers together behind your head.”
Uh-oh.
I obey, shaking a little. I try to gain control over my thoughts, but I’m having a hard time doing that.
“If you were my slave, you’d serve me. But what may not be apparent, is that a master/slave relationship goes both ways.”
I swallow. “How so?”
He shakes his head. “You’ll have to see.” A muscle ticks in his jaw as he shakes his head from side to side and curses under his breath. “Fuck it.”
I want to reach my hand out to stroke his cheek, but he told me to keep my hands behind my head.
He walks around the room and opens a drawer, gathering things in his hand I can’t see. The sun shines brightly outside our window, telling me it’s well past early morning. I don’t care about anything but what’s happening next.
“Come here, Savannah.”
I look over to see him pointing to the floor beside him with a… riding crop?
Oh.
My heartbeat accelerates. My mouth is dry. Somehow, despite my trembling knees and racing pulse, I make it over to him.
He sighs. “God, I knew you’d be perfect. Why’d you have to be?” He shakes his head. “Don’t answer that.”
Perfect?
He’s thought of me before?
I can’t think because the next thing I know, he’s walking around me as if appraising me, tapping the crop against his leg. “You said that punishment arouses you.”
I swallow, my mouth dry. “When you smacked my butt, it did. Not sure about that thing.”
“Oh, these can be very erotic,” he says. As if to show me, he places it over my shoulders, tracing each one, before dragging the little square of leather over my tank. My nipples harden, tenting the thin material.
“Did I give you permission to be aroused?” he asks, right before he snaps the crop against my nipple. A sharp flare of heat spasms through me, and I gasp.
“As if I have control over being aroused?” I ask, panting.
“You do. You’ll do what I command.”
Another sharp sting of the crop on my other nipple this time. Soon, he’s flicking the leather over my shoulders and chest, over and over and over until my clit throbs with need. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt before. How?
“If you were mine…” His voice trails off, and this time when he says it, I imagine he’s wondering what he would do to me sexually if I were his.
Ah, is that what he gets out of this, then?
I’m not yours.
Why does he keep bringing that up? Is it something he’s thought about, then? Does he want me to be his?
“You would obey and know your place, and if I told you to do something, I’d expect it to be done.’