Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
He works his fingers between my legs, my soft thighs making room for him with what seems like little effort on his part, and when he gets his whole big palm flat between them, with the press of his fingers in one direction while his wrist works in the opposite, he pries them apart. To make matters even more futile for me, he places one denim-covered knee right between them, and I’m officially fucked. Because now he’s got the only free hand between the two of us.
I’m staring into those blue-green eyes I’ve always found so beautiful, and it’s nearly impossible to keep that visual separate from the one I’m trying desperately to hold in the forefront of my mind. Even as they’re alight with a sadistic glint I’ve never been the recipient of, I can’t help thinking of all the years they’ve looked at me with care and protectiveness.
But then I realize, I’m not having to conjure that image in my mind at all. It’s still there, right alongside that dark and seductive gleam. He’s doing this to keep me safe. Him and Roman—they did this for me. They made it possible to fulfill my darkest, most coveted fantasy the only way that would 100 percent guarantee no one could hurt me.
Because there’s only one person on this entire planet who cares about me as much as my husband does, who has always kept me safe and sound if Roman wasn’t there to do it himself.
Our best friend, Bram.
And for some reason, allowing myself to fully think that through instead of trying to keep it out of my head at all costs, it allows me to let all of it go and just be in the moment. Both of them chose to gift me this night. No one is here against their will—even though that’s the entirety of the scene. It’s why it’s called consented non-consent, or CNC for short. It gives the captive a chance to beg, scream, fight, and plead, a cathartic release of all sorts of emotions, good and bad, all while the captor forces her body to respond in its most instinctive ways. The body will register those feelings as pleasure, even as the heart and mind scream against it, because that’s just how the brain is wired, and there’s not a goddamn thing we can do about it.
So I give in to the fact that this is my best friend, and I release the tension that knowledge was holding over me, not allowing me to fully enjoy this gift he and my husband have given me.
My nails dig into my palms as his fingers make their way up the inside of my thighs, the loose legs of my romper doing nothing to deter him, and I take a deep breath, ready to scream my lungs out, not fearing anyone will hear me since we’re still the only ones who have moved into this brand-new neighborhood. The rest of the street is completely empty of cars, only bulldozers and cranes down at the end of the cul-de-sac.
Just as his fingertips brush along my panty-covered slit, I’m finally able to release the scream that’s been bottled up inside me for nine months, letting go of all the pain I held onto that I never should’ve known in the first place.
His grip tightens on my wrists, and I open my eyes when I run out of breath, panting to get more into my lungs, when my vision catches on Bram’s face.
Never did I think he’d ever look at me like that. With a hunger so evident it’s like I can sense his mouth watering.
I’ve never even allowed myself to watch him complete a scene at the club before. I could stand there and enjoy the beginning, keeping my eyes focused on his sub, but there always came a point where I’d have to walk away, feeling guilty over the fact that I was getting so turned on by what he was doing to her and imagining myself in her place.
My husband’s best friend.
My best friend.
“What to do with you now,” he murmurs, his voice bringing me back to the present.
I swallow thickly, my voice coming out weak. “Please, just let me go.”
He lifts a brow at me, a look I allow myself to admit is sexy as fuck, and my pussy clenches as his hand just stays… right… there… against it, barely touching me but not moving away. And now that I’m conscious of that, my hips rock of their own accord, even as I try to keep them still. My body’s instincts are starting to take over, feeling his gentle touch between my legs and reacting the way my brain has taught it to—soft and warm pressure… on clitoris… equals pleasure. Must get closer. Must have more.