Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
I go still. “What?”
He nails me with his gaze, his jaw hard. “Because I’m making you, aren’t I? I’m making you my slut.”
My entire body clenches with his words and I have to fist his shirt and curl my toes. I have to stop breathing for a second to let his words sink in.
“I’m making you my baby. I’m making you my fucking sweetheart,” he continues. “And I dare them to say otherwise. I dare the world to question me. I fucking dare them to tear us apart.”
Maybe it’s crazy, but I wanted to be his slut.
I wanted to be reckless and impulsive and insane for him.
“Yours,” I whisper.
“Mine,” he agrees on a growl.
“And are you mine?”
Something big passes through his features. “If I could be anyone’s, I’d be yours.”
My heart squeezes so hard that my eyes sting. “I always wanted you to be the one to keep me safe. I wanted you to be the one who puts a leash on me, who protects me. I wanted you to be my bodyguard, my daddy.”
But you hurt me…
His nostrils flare with possessiveness as he declares, as if he heard me, “And I will make it up to you. Until he gets you, you’re mine. Until you’re married, you’re under my protection, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His chest breathes out with relief like he needed me to accept that; that I’m his until I become his brother’s. “So tell me what you’ll tell them.”
“I didn’t want it,” I whisper.
And oh my God, oh my fucking God, I think I come.
I think I come just by saying those words.
Just by looking at his face when I say them.
All dark and flushed. All possessive and determined.
All cold and cruel.
So beautiful.
“Exactly,” he whispers back, bringing his hand away from my face and gripping my thighs.
My bare thighs and I jump.
I don’t even know when he got his hand under my dress because up until now, everything was covered down there. But suddenly, it’s not. My dress has ridden up and it’s gotten right there.
Right up where my aching pussy is.
I can see his dusky fingers over my honey thighs, gripping them roughly.
Tenderly.
Because even though he’s doing this to me, I also want him to do this.
“My daddy did this,” I say, fisting his collar.
“Yeah, he couldn’t stop himself,” he says gutturally.
“Why not?”
“Because”—he digs his fingers harder—“you got engaged tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Someone, a motherfucking asshole, put his ring on your finger.”
I jerk and writhe against him. “But he’s a… He’s a good guy. He’s—”
“Everyone who wants you is an asshole,” he growls. “And he gets to have you, so he’s the biggest asshole on this planet.”
I shake my head. “But—”
“So he had to follow you, didn’t he, your daddy,” he goes on, cutting me off. “I had to follow you in here because I got jealous. Because your daddy needed to lay his claim on you. Because”—his eyes ripple with authority, with possessiveness—“you were his before you were someone else’s.”
God, yes.
Yes, I’m his.
My hands pull at his collar then as I twist my hips against his torso. “But I told him to get out.”
“He didn’t listen though, did he?”
“No.”
“That’s because”—he fists my dress tightly—“he saw how easy it was going to be. How easy it was going to be to get to that pussy.”
“Easy.”
“Uh-huh. Because you’re not wearing any panties, are you?”
My breath hitches. “I… This dress doesn’t really a-allow for them.”
A puff of breath escapes him, and he digs his fingers into my flesh for a second before stepping back and lowering my shaking legs to the ground.
He doesn’t let me go, though.
Keeping his hands on my thighs, he keeps my balance. He keeps me stuck to the wall and lowers himself on the floor. He goes down on his knees and slides the hem of my dress up.
“What…” I breathe out. “What are you doing?”
“Getting what I came for.”
And I have to grip his shoulders for extra protection because the more skin he reveals, the harder it becomes to keep standing. The more his hands, his large and scrape-y hands ride up my skin, the harder it becomes to breathe. And God, they are large. They are so, so large and dusky and strong looking against the backdrop of my soft skin.
“But I—”
“He got on his knees for you, didn’t he? So it’s my turn now. He got to put his ring on your finger, so now it’s my turn to put my mouth on you. And believe me when I say, baby”—his eyes are pinned on his hands as they move over my thighs, pushing my dress up and up—“your daddy’s hungry.”
He’s watching as he goes up and up.
Until he’s right there.
Right where my pussy is, all sloppy and wet.
“And this dress”—he fists the hem—“this dress that you wore for him. You did, didn’t you?”