Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
His low groan ricocheted through me as his tongue caressed mine. I answered, tangling with him as I gripped his shoulders. I’d wanted it for so long, imagined it so many ways—but the real thing was better than anything I could have concocted. Nate stoked my desire with his sinful mouth, promising me bliss with each artful stroke of his tongue against mine. Reaching around me, he yanked me forward until his cock pressed fully against me. I moved my hips, riding him despite our clothes. He gripped my ass harder, and my nipples ached as they pressed against his chest with each of my movements.
Running his hand to my hip, he squeezed. I squealed at the sudden shock of pain. He pulled back.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He blinked hard, then set me on my feet and stood.
I stepped toward him, wanting more of his touch.
But he held a hand up and stepped back. “No.”
“What?”
“This is…you are…we can’t…” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself.
“I’m not a child. I’m eighteen—”
“Right.” He nodded, perhaps at himself. “Eighteen. You’re far too young. I’m your guardian. That’s it.”
Irritation, thick and acrid, welled up inside me. “I can make my own decisions. You aren’t my legal guardian anymore.”
He flexed his fists and then straightened his fingers. “Don’t sass me.”
“I’ll sass you if I want to. I’m a grown woman. You’re acting like a scared kid.”
“Sabrina.” His tone held a warning that I ignored.
“What? Are you afraid? Scared of me?” I stepped toward him.
He retreated. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, can’t you see that? For once in my life, I’m trying to put someone else first. Put you first.”
It sounded right, noble even. But it wasn’t true. “No, you’re protecting yourself.”
“What?”
“You feel the same thing I do. You want this, but you won’t let yourself have it. You’re afraid.” I wanted to move closer, but his wild eyes told me he’d bolt.
“No, no, no.” He waved away my words. “You and me—it’s wrong. I’m supposed to look after you. To send you off to college. Not”—he gestured at his chair—“not do that.”
I tried a different tack. Running my hands up my body, I cupped my breasts. “Big tough mob boss can’t handle the heat?”
His eyes flashed. “Sabrina, I’m warning you.”
I was testing his control. But I didn’t just want to test it. I wanted it gone. “Warning me?” I laughed and grabbed the hem of my shirt. “About what? What will you do? Run away because you’re afraid?” I began to lift my top.
“Don’t.” He tensed, but watched every inch of skin I revealed as I peeled off my shirt.
When I tossed it on the floor at his feet and unbuttoned my jeans, his eyes darkened.
“That’s enough.”
“I don’t think so.” I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down my thighs.
Before I could finish the job, Nate grabbed me and sat in his desk chair, then flipped me across his knees. Smack. A burn ripped across my ass. Smack, smack, smack. I squealed and wiggled to try and get away from him, but he held me fast by pushing me down onto his knees with his left hand while he spanked me with his right. Over and over again, his palm came down against my backside, sending fire rushing along my skin.
“Nate!” I tried to push away from him to no avail.
“Teasing me.” Smack. “Sassing me.” Smack. “Showing me your fucking perky tits.” Smack. “Grinding on my cock.” Smack, smack, smack.
The more I struggled, the more he spanked me. The fire on my ass cheeks began to seep deeper into me, changing from pain to something warmer as he smacked me again then smoothed his hand over the burn. I moaned as he dipped his fingers down along my thong.
“Fucking wet.” His voice was tight as he stroked me through my panties. “Fuck.”
I whimpered and wriggled against his touch, wanting more. “Please.”
My voice seemed to snap him out of his reverie, because he cursed in a creative litany, then yanked my jeans up to cover my stinging ass.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Shit.” He lifted me to my feet. “Are you okay?”
Okay? I was fucking flying. I wanted more—more pain, more pleasure, more of his hands on me. Before I could vocalize all of that, he’d swiped my shirt off the floor and pulled it down over my head.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “That won’t happen again.” His eyes were wide, as if he were horrified at what he’d done. He led me to his office door. “Just, ah, I’ll see you later.”
“I want to stay.” I dug my heels in, but he easily overcame me and pushed me out the door.
“No. I’m sorry.” He shut down, his eyes refusing to meet my own. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”