Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
He averted his stare again, and as amusing as it was, it put too much distance between us. So I leaned forward and returned my hand to his thigh.
“We can also change the subject if you want,” I told him.
“No, I don’t want that,” he responded quickly in a hushed tone. “I apologize. I’m unsettled and nervous.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” I stroked his thigh, genuinely wanting him more comfortable. “Take your time.”
Right in that moment, I almost wished he had something with Tate, because then I could hurt him back.
Franklin swallowed and peered down at my hand. In the darkness, it was difficult to see if I had any visible effect on him, but I sensed an urgency in him. A newborn, can’t-really-control-myself kind of thirst. I’d been there once upon a time. I remembered wanting too much at once.
“I don’t fantasize about being in control,” he confessed. “I started there. But…” He wet his bottom lip and loosened his tie. “It was like a rabbit hole. I found a video where a man was pushed and toyed with, and I started spiraling. I can’t explain it. I felt horribly embarrassed afterward.”
After what? After he’d gotten off in a minute?
“And I kept going back to that video.” He spoke as if he was admitting to having committing a crime. “Once I got the hang of certain keywords, I couldn’t stop.”
“Sounds like you’ve found a kink you really want to dig into.”
He swallowed nervously and kept sneaking glimpses of my hand. “Should I, though? It cannot be healthy to seek out relations where someone pushes you around.”
“Why not?” I inched upward slightly and squeezed the inside of his thigh. “Shame and embarrassment can be intoxicating to play with. Like two mental buttons you push to get a reaction.”
That had his attention, and he locked eyes with me. “Shame can be a tool, so to speak?”
“Absolutely. Plenty of people get off on that. They wanna be dragged through the mud mentally and emotionally—because some find their climaxes there. Or a mental state of complete surrender. Everyone’s different.”
It didn’t go unnoticed that he dropped his gaze to my mouth every now and then.
I think he wants me, Tate. How about that?
“How did it feel when the shame washed over you?” I asked.
Fucking hell, he was too much. His expressions and reactions were so vivid that it was impossible not to get sucked in.
“Like I was filthy.” His voice dropped, and I almost didn’t hear him. “I tried to fight it, but all I wanted was to sprawl out on the floor and have more.”
Great. I was officially getting turned on by the man my ex might replace me with. It would definitely pose some problems; Tate was still primarily submissive, but what did I know. There were solutions. I was willing to bet Franklin would jump at the opportunity if Tate just made himself available. Perhaps he hadn’t so far—if he’d spent so much time bitching about me.
I didn’t fucking know what to believe.
“You shouldn’t fight it,” I murmured to him. “You never know—you might find your sexual freedom in that filth.”
“Sexual freedom,” he echoed quietly. “Sounds liberating.”
I smirked a little and rubbed him a few inches closer to his cock. “It is. Did you react to any specific words or actions in the video? Something the Top did to the man?”
He shuddered and lowered his hooded gaze to my mouth again. “Accusations. Profanities. Being belittled…”
Jesus. He was too much. I couldn’t believe this was a coincidence. I fucking refused. He had to know who I was. Maybe Tate had told him about me. And not just our wreck of a relationship.
Could I go through with an evening with Franklin without confronting him?
I leaned in and grazed my nose along his jaw. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”
He sucked in a breath. “I-I can’t. I can’t think straight. You’re so—”
“So what? What am I?”
“God, so fucking sexy.” The words gusted out of him, and he quickly buried his face in his hands.
I smiled. “You cursed.” Then I let my hand brush over his crotch, and I wasn’t surprised to find him rock hard.
He groaned into his hands before he let them fall—or one of them. He carefully tested the waters with the other and placed it on my knee.
“I haven’t given you permission to touch me.”
“I’m sorry.” He withdrew his hand.
I applied pressure to his cock and rubbed him firmly through his pants. “Do you wanna earn the permission?”
A quick nod. “Yes, please.”
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.” Because I’d fucking do it. I’d do it well, too. Assuming he hadn’t been with a man before, it was important to me I did it right. And nothing more than he was ready for, whether it was kissing and touching or losing his verbal skills on my cock.