Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
He’s out of control and all because of me.
I drove him to this. My body, my moans. My lips and voice. A man like Kellen must be good at keeping himself under control, but I make him wild.
The thought spurs me on. He spanks me hard, so hard I scream his name, and he buries his fingers deep inside my pussy. It throws me over the edge as he strokes against my G-spot and I come in a wild, intense fury. As I moan, he stifles my sounds with his tongue and lips, stroking me through it, kissing me all the while until I collapse against the cool felt, gasping for breath.
He slides his fingers back out and looks me in the eyes as he licks them clean.
“Don’t disobey me again. I won’t go easy on you next time.”
“That was… going easy?”
He turns and leaves the room. I stay there, panties a mess, dripping wet, head dizzy with pleasure and I wonder… what’s going hard like?
And do I want to find out?
Chapter 14
Tara
I don’t say a word when I go back out into the garden after putting myself back together and find Rory sitting in the same spot in the shade looking at his phone. I gather up my tools and get back to work like he’s not there, and I spend the rest of the day ignoring my guards and thinking about the dominating, intense spanking Kellen gave me and trying not to lose my damn mind.
I’m a mess of conflicted feelings. I’m angry I let it happen, pissed he threw me around like that, and desperate for him to do it again. I hate that I’m letting Kellen seduce me and love that I’m finally feeling something for the first time in years. It’s like I can breathe, like I’ve been underwater for years and now I’m only breaking the surface for the first time in my life.
I don’t know what I really want, but I do know that if he bends me over and spanks me and teases me with his fingers again, I won’t try to fight him.
Which is just confusing, because I’m supposed to hate the Hayle family.
I finish work early and put my tools away. Angus switched out for Rory an hour earlier, and he doesn’t follow me into the mansion. I spend the rest of the day getting acclimated to the big house, looking through the rooms, saying hello to the staff, most of whom I know already just from seeing them around. It’s bizarre being on this side of the power dynamic, even though I’m also still sort of an employee, and since I don’t know where I stand, I choose to act like nothing’s different.
I’m exhausted by the time dinner rolls around. The kitchen sends me up a meal, a delicious shrimp and lemon orzo dish with a nice white wine, and when that luxury is done, I spend an hour in the bath.
But Kellen’s still not back.
It’s late when I finally decide to go to bed. I haven’t heard from him since that moment in the pool room—there are exactly four rooms with pool tables in them, since I guess being rich means collecting huge pieces of furniture that never get used, but that makes calling it the pool room somewhat confusing, but whatever—and I’m trying not to worry. Kellen is his own man and he can do whatever he wants. Although apparently that doesn’t extend to me.
I shut out the lights, close my eyes, and try to sleep.
Sleep doesn’t come.
Instead, images of Kellen dance in my brain. His tongue in my mouth. His hands on my skin. His hard, sculpted muscles as he grips me and slides his fingers deep inside my pussy, touching me and treating me like no man’s ever touched and treated me before. I was like a toy for him and he delighted in spanking me, hurting me, and getting me off. Teaching me a lesson, but also showing me what he can do to my skin if he chooses to.
How he can control me and turn me to clay in his hands.
I hear the door open around one in the morning. Footsteps walk down the hall and into the bathroom. The shower turns on and I get gingerly out of bed. I peer out and find Kellen sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi tub in his suit, the white shirt splattered with sweat and blood, his hair slick with the stuff, his face a mask of exhaustion and pain. The buttons are open and the jacket’s on the floor, and he’s cradling a hand against his chest like he’s holding his ribs together.
I gasp, covering my mouth, and he looks up. His eyes are glassy and tired.
“Kellen.” I walk toward him slowly. “What happened?”