Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
More.
More.
More.
"Is this what you want?" he asks. "Is this what you need?"
I shake my head, closing my eyes, as I relax back against the wall. Water streaks my face, raining down on me, my eyes burning, mascara running and makeup streaking, but I'm so damn close to orgasm already I can't even care. "More."
"How much more?"
"So much more," I murmur, feeling the pressure mounting, every inch of me tingling. Heat viciously attacks me, inside and out, battering my skin while straining my muscles. Naz's lips find my neck, and he sucks on it, making me gasp as he bites the tender spot below my ear. His fingers pump with fervor as I grind against his hand, getting closer… closer… closer…
"Oh God, so close," I groan, tilting my head more as his lips make their way around to the front of my neck. He bites my throat, hard, the skin vibrating around his mouth as I let out a piercing scream at the unexpected jolt of pain. My body tenses in reaction as he curves his fingers, finding that spot.
That spot.
I explode, pleasure and pain and tension and release and every fucking thing my body has ever contained igniting in a ball of flames that sparks right between my legs. I bang my head against the tile, pain shooting through my skull.
Before the pleasure even wanes, Naz lets go of me, dropping me back to my feet. My knees buckle, and I nearly hit the tile, unprepared, but Naz keeps me upright. He drags me to the other side of the shower before I can even catch my breath, spinning me around so my back is to him.
Naz presses me up against the massive glass wall that looks down onto the first floor of the suite. The material of my dress slaps against it, adhering to it just like it clings to my trembling body.
He says not a word—not a syllable, not a sigh, not even a whisper against my skin, as he yanks down my panties and lifts me up enough to thrust inside of me. I gasp, and he pauses at the sound, before steadying himself, stabilizing me there, to pound into me. He fucks me so hard, so brutal, I almost cry, the mix of pleasure and pain intense, unexpected. Jesus, I wasn't prepared for this. One arm pins me to him at the waist while his other hand finds my throat.
I suck in a deep breath, shakily exhaling when my lungs feel like they might burst, over and over. It's torture, waiting for something, waiting for the dizzying sensation of him blocking the flow of air, waiting for his fingertips to press against my jugular. I'm distracted, waiting… waiting… waiting… for the asphyxiation.
It doesn't come.
I feel like screaming.
"Naz…" My voice is a growl. "Please."
I don't even know why I'm begging. Do I want him to do it? I don't know. I don't know. I just wish he'd put me out of misery, Jesus Christ, just do it or don't. The taunting is too much, the imminent threat of his hand on my throat stirring up the adrenaline until my vision blurs.
Fuck, I don't know what I want.
He seems to know though, his hand shifting, squeezing just enough to make me gasp for air.
Within seconds, orgasm rocks through me, and he lets go as I suck in a deep breath, crying out his name. He thrusts into me so hard I'm surprised the glass can sustain the force, surprised it doesn't crack under the weight of the two of us, as his body shudders.
He drops me fast, letting go of me and backing away. I'm caught off guard, hitting the tile with a bang. I wince and look over at Naz, watching in shock as he strokes himself, fast, hard, coming down the shower drain.
It's been a long time since he's done that, pulled out like that, coming somewhere except for inside of me. A long, long time. His eyes are closed, mouth parted, head tilted back as his breaths come out haggard. He's stunning, there's no doubt about it, but the sight of him nags at me.
Something's wrong.
He's holding back.
After his body calms down, he opens his eyes, dropping his gaze to look at me. The faded, distracted look from earlier is back, his brow furrowing at the sight of me on the shower floor. "Are you okay?"
I nod slowly. "I think I broke my ass, but otherwise…"
He reaches for me and pulls me to my feet, dragging me back under the spray of water. He strips me, yanking off my heavy, soaked dress, discarding it in the corner of the shower, before his hands explore my skin. He caresses and massages, grabbing the soap and gently washing every inch of me before shampooing my hair.
I just stand there, letting him do it.
He doesn't speak, but this feel a hell of a lot like an apology.
Afterward, he takes a washcloth and runs it across my cheeks, wiping the skin around my eyes. I can see the black smears on the cloth from my makeup. "I look like a raccoon, don't I?"
A smile touches his lips. "You're beautiful, baby. Don't fret it."
I roll my eyes, but he doesn't give me much of a chance to argue. He shuts off the water and opens the shower door, stepping out. Grabbing a robe from the hook on the wall nearby, he drapes it around me, rubbing my arms as he kisses my forehead.
"Why don't you go pour us some more champagne?" he suggests. "I'll be right behind you."
I head downstairs, just as he told me to.
It takes him a while to follow.
Naz is distant the rest of the night. Again, he's here physically, but his thoughts are far away. I ask him more than once if he's okay, but he just repeats his mantra. Don't worry about it.
Naturally, I worry.
And worry.
And worry.
I lay in bed that night, still worrying.
I fall asleep worrying.
I dream about it.
I'm worried.
Something jolts me awake in the middle of the night. The room is dark, shadows befalling everything, the only light from the crack between the curtains letting the glow from the strip shine through. I'm on my back, and roll over, blinking away the sleep, but freeze when I see Naz's side of the bed is empty.