Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“May I—?” She’s already coming, her tight channel squeezing my dick in quick pulses.
“Come.” I keep rocking into her, slowing the force and speed of my thrusts but still nowhere near gentle. I keep my hand wrapped around her throat as I claim her pouty lips, kissing the hell out of her, my facial hair reddening her baby soft skin.
“Was that what you needed, blossom?” My voice sounds rough, as if I’d been the one shouting a release.
“Yes.” She pants, a sheen of sweat making her tits look slick and inviting. I release her throat and trail my hand over one of them, thumbing her nipple.
I lower my body over hers, blanketing her as I nuzzle into her neck. “You’re beautiful when you come without permission.”
Her breath stalls for a moment, and then she gets defensive. “You said yes.”
“Mm.”
She wriggles beneath me, and I roll us to our sides, still connected. “I said yes to save you from punishment. Don’t expect I’ll always be so merciful.”
The room is dark—I never turned on the lights—but I think I detect a blush.
I ease out of her and roll onto my back, the post-orgasm relaxation settling in swiftly.
“You’re mean,” she murmurs, nestling against my side and scraping the tip of her nail over my nipple.
I cover her hand and pull her fingers to my lips. “You like it.” I close my eyes, listening to the hum of pleasure running through my body. Marveling at what Kayla does to me. How sex with her can flip a situation so completely. “Well, this went in a totally different direction than I expected,” I tell her, uncharacteristically open with my thoughts.
She pauses a moment. “What did you expect?”
I make a non-committal sound, then I just admit it. “I was pretty sure you were going to call red on the whole thing.”
She sits up, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts like she’s feeling vulnerable. She stares straight ahead. “Do you want to end this?”
I roll to my side to see her face in the shadows. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why she sounds hurt.
I also can’t explain the alarm that spreads through me. When we were walking back and I was assigning odds to the chance of her ending things, I was troubled but still calm as hell. Right now, adrenaline spikes through my system, and my skin prickles like I’m in physical danger. Or like she is.
She’s asking me point blank. I could end things right now. Do what I planned to do. Before things get serious. Before I have to choose between the brotherhood and love. Between atoning for my sins in Russia and staying here with her.
I should say yes. Explain how this is a bad idea. Right now. There won’t be a better time.
“No.” I sound angry.
She finally looks at me. “Then stop suggesting it.” Her voice is soft, but she’s never sounded so firm. Like she’s giving me an ultimatum that I hardly understand.
Stop suggesting it.
Fuck.
4
Kayla
After a morning of torturing my body in the best possible way, Pavel tries to book a spa appointment for me at the Four Seasons.
“I’m sorry, but we book weeks in advance, there’s simply nothing available,” I hear the spa attendant tell him over the hotel phone.
“That’s okay, I’m good.” I sidle up to him. “Feeling pretty relaxed already,” I murmur.
He hangs up and loops an arm around me. “What should we do?”
I have this strong urge to get us out of the hotel room. I think that’s why I wanted to walk with him to the convenience store last night. All of our interactions are in the bedroom or BDSM club, which is amazing. But I want more. Or I want to find out if there’s the possibility for more.
I should be running for the hills after what I saw last night. Seeing what Pavel’s capable of, being reminded that the world he lives in is far, far different from mine, should have been the clincher. It should have driven home the idea that I shouldn’t pursue more from this guy. We are just sex, and I should be happy with that.
But my ambitious little heart won’t take no for an answer. I have the need to be claimed fully by him. I’ll never forget how spectacularly freeing it felt at Black Light when he scooped me up and told me I belonged to him now.
I want to belong to him. I like belonging to him.
And I know I do right now in the master-slave fantasy sense, but I want it in the real-life sense, too. Or, at least I think I do.
Maybe that’s plain nuts.
“Why don’t I show you L.A.?” I suggest then wince a little, already anticipating his rejection of the idea. In our relationship, I don’t drive. He does.