Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
I felt myself melting under his gaze. He had a way of unearthing every secret and thought hidden inside of me, and I found a strange sense of comfort in that. In his possession, but also in my surrender to him. As much as I craved his touch and control, however, I couldn't shake the guilt that always followed. The pang of shame that twisted in my gut whenever I gave myself over completely to him.
He lowered his mouth to mine once again, pumping his fingers in and out of my pussy until I was whimpering and moaning against him. He pulled back with a grin on his lips, whispering against mine, "I never tire of that sound. Or of you." His lips found their way to my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses as he continued to pleasure me. The intense heat of his body enveloped mine, his breath a steady warmth against my skin. "There are secrets in this house. They’ve been hidden away for centuries. And there are some things I never want to reveal, never want to share. But you... I want you to know everything as much as I need to know you."
My heart raced as he began to move faster, his fingers skilled and unrelenting in their pursuit of my pleasure. My back arched, every nerve in my body electrified by his touch. Moans escaped my lips, growing louder and more urgent with each passing moment. "That's it," he murmured, watching me closely.
I cried out his name as another orgasm shook through me like a violent storm, my entire being consumed by the pleasure he was bestowing upon me. I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulder as I rode the waves of ecstasy that crashed over me.
He held me close, his embrace unwavering. When the intensity subsided and I remained trembling in his arms, he slowly withdrew his hand from between my legs. His fingers glistened with our combined arousal.
They traced a tantalizing path over my lips, leaving behind a slick trail that I couldn't resist. With eager anticipation, I opened my mouth, reveling in the taste of us that I had grown accustomed to. It was an intimacy that should have repulsed me, but instead, it only drew me deeper into his spell. A victory he took with quiet satisfaction. Just as quickly as it began, he pulled his fingers away and replaced them with his lips. When he finally pulled back, he checked the sleek watch on his wrist. It was the same kind I remembered from the very first time I saw him. Back then, I didn't even know his name or what kind of man he was, but I knew wealth when I saw it.
So did Anya.
Anya.
Her name echoed in my mind as her face flashed before my eyes - haunting me like she often did whenever I closed my eyes. My best friend had disappeared without a trace since the day we were both taken.
I imagined her trapped somewhere dark while I lived in this feverish dream of a life, always in a state of limbo. But things had changed for me now, hadn't they? The guilt nagged at me, reminding me that I had no right to be in this moment, to forget even for a second the danger that still loomed over us. It was no match for the pull I felt towards him - Alexander. And that was the most terrifying part of it all, how I was slipping into this life with him as if it were where I belonged all along.
As much as I needed to, I couldn't bring myself to hate him as much as I should. Maybe I didn't hate him at all. Every time his hands were on me, each time he kissed me like I was the air he needed to breathe, I forgot. I forgot about Anya, about the twisted reality of this place. I forgot about the looming consequences of whatever it was that bound us together.
All I could think about was him—the way he moved, the way he touched me, the way he made me feel like I was his entire world.
Whatever this was, it was dangerous.
Reckless, even.
But I couldn’t stop.
His lips brushed against mine again, softer this time, as if he could sense the inner turmoil in which I was drowning. Knowing him, he did. He could read me so effortlessly. His thumb stroked the side of my face, luring me back to him and the place where nothing existed but the two of us. "How do you always do that?" I asked quietly. The question wasn’t about the kiss or the touch. It was about everything. How he always seemed to know—how he always managed to pull me back when I was teetering on the edge of doubt.