Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I don’t care if they see me. I’m in the moment right now.
Devereaux’s fingers keep toying with my clit as my body explodes all around me. Pleasure radiates through me, vibrating every cell, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I ride out the last few waves of my orgasm.
“I need you,” Devereaux growls from behind me.
“I’m yours. You can have me,” I whisper.
“I’m taking you to another room.”
We stand, and I reposition my mask, watching Devereaux adjust his dick.
I can’t believe I’m really here.
Devereaux takes my hand and leads me out of the room. “Time to explore another kink.”
My eyes widen at his words. “Which one?”
He smiles like he has a big secret. “You’ll see.”
My insides twist with excitement and fear when he stops in front of a closed blue door. I’ve passed by this door many times while working, but never went inside.
He twists the handle. “Ready to submit?”
I stare into his whiskey-colored eyes. He’s beautiful, and I can’t believe I’m here with him right now.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“I trust you,” I tell him.
He pushes the door open. “After you,” he says, ushering me into the room with his hand on the small of my back.
The dim room has fog pumping into it, and I barely make out Panti on her knees, before an older man with a black mask. He has a whip in his hand and pulls Panti closer to his crotch. She unzips his pants and I turn away before I can fully see his manhood.
Devereaux stares at me. “Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, realizing this is a Dominant-submissive type of room.
“Damn, you’re such a smart girl.”
I glance sheepishly up at him as he leads me further into the room away from Panti and her mystery man.
He finds a spot near the far wall, away from prying eyes and in the thick of the fog.
“This room isn’t really meant for watching,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
I nod. “Oh, ok.”
“Are you ready to submit?”
“Yes, Sir.” I nod.
“On your knees.”
I blink at him, and he audibly growls.
“I won’t say it twice.”
I slink to my knees, lowering my head like I’ve seen in Fifty Shades of Grey.
He leans against the wall, watching me, studying me like I’m a rare gem. “Open your mouth.”
I do as he commands.
He traces his thumb along my lower lip before sticking his finger into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around it and suck. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back.
“Unzip my pants.”
Again, I do as he says.
“Take out my cock. It’s so fucking hard for you.”
I pull him out and lick the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum there.
He draws back. “You don’t touch unless I say you can, understood?”
I nod.
“Say it. Say you understand.”
“I understand, Sir,” I say for good measure.
“Good girl.”
There’s a door next to Devereaux, and he tucks his dick back into his pants. “I have a better idea,” he says, helping me to my feet.
He opens another door and we’re alone in a room with a four-poster bed, all in white, in the center.
“No one will disturb us here.” He locks the door and removes his mask. I take mine off and he places them on an overstuffed leather chair.
I take in my surroundings. The room isn’t exceptionally large, probably as big as my bedroom back home, and the huge bed takes up most of the space.
“Are those handcuffs?” I ask as I spot metal dangling from the post on the bed frame.
“We won’t use them if they make you uncomfortable,” Devereaux says, moving to a large wooden armoire. “We won’t ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“I could always handcuff you,” I say, swaying my hips and winking at him.
He laughs, and the rich sound fills the room. “At this rate, I’d let you.”
“You would?” I ask, not believing he’d let me have that much control over him.
He doesn’t answer only smiles. “Knees, now,” Devereaux orders. His tone and mannerisms have morphed into something different. Something primal.
I sink to my knees, loving the way his eyes gloss over as he watches me.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
My chest warms at his words. I love him saying these words to me. He doesn’t realize what they do to me.
He lifts my chin with his fingers. Our eyes meet. “Don’t speak unless I tell you to. You do nothing unless commanded. Got that?”
I nod.
“Good girl.” He crosses back to the armoire and pulls out a long black whip.
A tendril of panic widens my eyes.
“Don’t worry. I’m not using this on you.”
“What are you going to do with it?” I ask him.
His eyes narrow. “Did I say you could speak?”
“Sorry.”
“There you go again, opening that pretty fucking mouth.”
He places the whip back in the drawer and pulls out something I can’t make out in the room’s dim light.
“Maybe if I shove my fat cock down your throat, you won’t be able to speak.”