Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I’d always wanted him.
From the moment I saw this stranger looming over me while I was on the balcony, sunbathing, a twisted, sick part of my brain had wanted him to pin me to the sunbed and fuck my mouth while I lay there, helpless.
“Take your tits out,” he ordered dryly.
I withdrew my hand from his cock to work at the final few buttons, but he cupped my palm, keeping it pressed against his shaft.
A sardonic smirk touched his beautiful lips. “I trust you can multitask.”
My left hand fumbled with the rest of the buttons of my dress, until I gave up and tore it open. My breasts spilled out. I didn’t wear a bra. My boobs were always my best asset. Perky and pear-shaped, my pink nipples as small as two diamonds.
Ransom stared, taking them both in.
“And you?” I asked groggily, sounding drunk, even to my own ears. “Have you kissed someone today?”
He scooped an ice cube from his whiskey tumbler and trailed it between my tits, swirling it around one of my nipples. We both watched as it puckered, straining with sensitivity, begging to be sucked and licked.
“What am I going to do with you?” he hissed.
“Lick it better?” I smiled innocently at him.
“Only good girls get rewarded. Bad girls, however…”
He removed the ice cube from my nipple, moving it down, along my inner thigh—going up, up north. “Oh, and while we’re on the subject, I don’t kiss my hookups. Too many germs.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
“That’s the answer you’re getting.”
“Who told you I want to do anything with you if you just had your dick in someone else?”
He gave me an awful look of indulgent compassion as if I were a stupid child. “No problem there. You’re not getting dicked tonight.”
His fingers and the ice cube stopped at the center of my panties. A pool of cold water formed over the fabric. I stopped rubbing him, but only because no part of me could function I was so aroused.
“Remember, Brat, nothing’s happening here.”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I panted. “Nothing. Please.”
With his expression still glacial and bored, he tucked my panties to one side, sliding whatever was left of the ice cube—and his index finger—into me.
I let out a feral moan, chasing his touch, writhing against the wall. My virginity, at least in the technical sense, had been taken by a dildo when I was seventeen years old. And though I’d given myself many orgasms in my life, nothing had ever felt as acutely good as what he was doing to me.
“What are we doing?” His lips hovered over mine teasingly. Every time I tried to reach to kiss him, he moved away.
“Nothing.” My breath picked up speed, telling him what he wanted to hear. “Nothing at all.”
“Good girls get rewarded.”
He added his middle finger into me, the ice dissolving inside me completely. My own juices and the cold water dripped down my legs, mixing together, traveling from my thighs to my calves.
“Ride my fingers now, Princess.”
“Or what?”
Our eyes met. He searched mine relentlessly for traces of doubt.
I want the fantasy. I want you not to be considerate, or gentle.
“Or”—his lips dragged along the side of my neck—“I’m going to throw you over my bed headfirst and fuck your ass until you bleed.”
Oh. My. God.
Fear and excitement coursed through me. I pushed up and down, grinding into his body for added friction as I rode his fingers. I closed my eyes, my pleasure mixed with shame for what he was making me do. I knew he was watching, and I knew he was getting a kick out of the full control he had over me.
“Ransom…”
“No talking,” he said, not moving an inch, just standing there with his fingers erect while I fucked them.
“Give me a third finger. Please.”
“No.”
“Please.” God, what was I doing? I was already regretting my behavior, and still, I continued. I picked up speed, feeling my orgasm making its way from my toes up.
“Why’d you kiss Max?” he growled.
“To piss you off!” I cried out.
“Consider this payback.”
Just like that, he drew his fingers away, seconds from my orgasm. He stepped back. I slacked against the wall, my legs piling beneath me in disarray. The sweet ache of where his fingers had been still pulsated inside me. Well, now I was just pissed.
“Nothing happened, though, right?” He smiled pleasantly, popping the two fingers he’d used into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Hmm. Watermelon Sugar High.”
“Fuck you,” I moaned from my place on the floor.
He tipped his head down. “Not a fan of Harry Styles?”
“Not a fan of you!” I called out to his retreating back, watching him ambling to his room, disposing his whiskey glass on a credenza in the living room. “I’ll never fuck an asshole like you.”
He chuckled before closing the door behind him.