Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he says and drips wax on my bare breast.
I moan, crossing my legs, the pulse of desire starting to overwhelm me.
What the fuck is happening right now?
Pleasure rips into my core. He drips more wax and slaps my nipple, not too hard, but enough to hurt. He grips my hair harder, drips more wax, and finally bends forward to bring his lips down to my bare nipples.
I gasp and release a strangled, raspy moan, so loud that I’m sure the whole house hears but I don’t care, I’m panting with anticipating as his lips slowly kiss down my chest until he reaches my hard nipples.
He wraps them with his tongue and teeth then bites and sucks, and I gasp, back arching, eyes going wide. Pleasure slams against the pain in a dizzying insanity and my brain melts down in a sudden overwhelming brightness of utter, absolute lust.
I come as he licks my nipples, sucking them hard and biting, mixing pleasure and pain and driving me insane, and he pulls my hair as I explode with ecstasy.
I come in a sudden frenzy, gasping his name as he swirls his tongue around both nipples, and when I’m finally done, he releases me.
I sit forward, curled inward, hugging my knees up to my chest and breathing hard. I’m dizzy and breathless and what the fuck was that? Did I seriously just have an orgasm because this guy licked my nipples? This sick bastard, this controlling psycho asshole?
But fuck, I really did—the aftershocks still ripple down my spine and into my core. It feels so fucking good I could scream. I clench my knees together, wanting it to stop, but fuck, it was incredible. I didn’t know an orgasm could be so intense. He didn’t even touch me down there, and yet he made me explode with ecstasy in a way I’ve never experienced in my life before.
He comes around and crouches down in front of the stool.
“Look at me.”
I glance up, biting my lip hard. I need the pain to counteract the pleasure. I need to remind myself why I’m here. It’s not to let this man get me off by pouring hot wax on my skin and sucking my tits.
I’m here to kill this bastard. For Lucy.
I’m trembling, shaking. I’m barely under control.
But I won’t forget.
“Tell me how that felt.”
I open my mouth and close it again. He tilts my chin up with the tip of his middle finger.
“Tell me, Kaye.”
“It felt good.” I hate myself for saying it, but that’s the truth. “It felt so fucking good.”
“That’s right. That’s pain mixed with the right amount of pleasure at the correct moment. It can take you places you’ve never experienced. I didn’t know what to expect tonight, little Kaye, but you’ve exceeded everything I could’ve imagined. Now, put your clothes on and stand up.”
I don’t have to be told twice. I don’t bother peeling all the hardened wax off my skin. I’ll scrub it off in the shower later when I get back to the dorms. For now, I cover my breasts, hook my bra, and yank my shirt over my head. My heart’s still racing, and my eyes feel unsteady and dizzy, but I climb to my feet.
He takes my place and yanks off his shirt.
I stare at him, blinking rapidly.
His muscular chest glistens in the low light. He holds out a candle, staring into my eyes, face deadly serious and I can’t tell what he wants until he finally speaks.
“My turn.”
My mouth falls open, but I take the candle. He sits there calmly, watching me, and my eyes roam down his chest. Latin words on his collarbone, more nautical images on his chest and stomach. Every inch of him is etched with black. I move around to see his muscular back—
And suck in a breath.
It’s mottled with scars. Not the even, symmetrical scars of surgery or cuts, but the ugly, melted scars of a burn.
He sits straight, unflinching, as I stare.
His back is a map of agony and I can’t begin to imagine the hell that must’ve caused it.
“My turn,” he says again and I release a soft whimper. I don’t want to do this. Even though I hate this man and there’s a powerful part of me that wants to kill him for what I think he did to Lucy, the idea of dripping hot wax on those burn scars feels wrong. Horribly wrong.
He remains utterly still. Poised and waiting. “Do it now. I wouldn’t put someone through something I wasn’t willing to do myself. Drip it, Kaye.”
I groan. I don’t want to, but I force myself to do it. The orgasm’s still buzzing in my head as I drip, drip, drip. Each time, he hardly reacts, only gives a soft suck of air, a gentle grunt. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard and my heart’s racing after the fifth drop.