Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
I writhe, but he’s got me too thoroughly held. And then his free hand is around my throat, pulling me back until my head rests against his shoulder. I can’t move at all in this position. Can’t do anything but sob out a breath. “Jonas, stop. If my father finds out—”
“You’re right.” His voice is pure sin in my ear. “It would break his fucking heart to know what a little slut his precious daughter is.” He cups one of my breasts in a rough hand, making me squirm harder. “You wanted me to take this.”
“No!”
“Shall we find out?”
“Wait—”
He abandons my breast to cup my pussy in a harsh grasp. It doesn’t hurt, but it almost doesn’t feel like him. Or at least not how he’s touched me to date. He drags one finger through my pussy folds. “What’s this?” Another slow drag and then he lifts his hand before our faces. There’s no denying the way his finger gleams with my desire. “You’re awfully wet for someone who says they don’t want this.”
“I don’t want this,” I lie through my teeth.
He tsks. “Shameful.” Jonas circles one nipple with his wet finger, drawing it to a point, before repeating the process with the other. “Utterly shameful.”
I can’t get enough oxygen. Not because of how tightly he’s holding me—his grip isn’t squeezing at all, simply holding me in place—but because of how hot this is. “I’m sorry. Just let me go.”
“Not until you answer my question.”
I blink up at the shadows on the ceiling. “What question?”
I can hear the cruel smile in his voice. “Exactly how shameful is your father’s little princess?”
20
Jonas tightens his hold on my throat the tiniest bit when I try to burst forward. “I suppose we’ll see.” Despite his rough touch, he sounds almost like he’s musing to himself.
No matter how hard I fight, he’s too strong. He manages to maneuver us to face the desk without hurting me once despite my struggles. After the briefest hesitation he lifts me onto the desk. Shock stills me for a moment, and it’s all Jonas needs. He yanks the robe off and presses me face-down against the desk with my ass in the air and my wrists pinned at the small of my back.
How the hell did he manage that so smoothly?
I’m still trying to figure it out as he uses his free hand to urge my legs wider yet. I try to close them, but it’s impossible. “Please stop!”
Jonas curses. “Your pretty lying mouth is saying stop, but your pussy is practically dripping.” He skates his free hand up my thigh to the bottom crease of my ass and squeezes. Parting me. “You like this.”
“No!”
“Lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me.” He traces my opening with his thumb. “Are you worried that you won’t be your father’s little princess if you let me touch you?” His breath caresses my spine just above where he’s pinned my wrists. “If you stop fighting it?”
“Yes,” I sob out. “I’m not supposed to want this. I’m not supposed to want you.” I drag in a breath. “You’re my father’s best friend.”
“Yes, I am.” His gentle kiss against my back is directly at odds with the unyielding grip around my wrists. “And I’m about to eat your pussy until you come all over my face.”
I think I might die if he does. I know I’ll die if he doesn’t.
“Blake.” He leans forward to twine his hand through my hair and gently twist my head to face the windows. “Tell me what you see.”
It takes my eyes a moment to focus. It’s now dark enough outside that the windows act the part of a mirror, reflecting my image back at me. This position feels obscene. It looks even more so. With my cheek on the desk and my arms pinned back between my legs, my ass is in the air. The angle ensures that Jonas has a great view of both my ass and pussy. That he has access to both. I try to struggle, but he just presses my wrists more firmly to the desk. “Answer the question.”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
He gives my ass a sharp slap. “Try again.”
I’m panting now. “I see a man holding me down.”
“Ah.” His chuckle is as dark as the room. I watch him pull the chair closer to the desk, sink into it, and adjust the height, all without releasing me. “Would you like to know what I see?”
“No!”
“I see a little slut who’s begging for it.” He leans forward and drags his nose up the back of my thigh. “It’s okay, little slut. You can cry foul all you want. I’ll still give you what you’re afraid to ask for.”
“Wait—” Whatever I was about to say devolves into a moan as Jonas leans forward and licks me. A long lick, tasting all of me. It feels good. It looks even better. He’s got his face buried in the most private part of me, and it’s like watching my very own personal porno while experiencing it in real time.