Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I can already tell she’s the perfect submissive.
“I told you. That wasn’t BDSM,” I repeat.
“So the real thing is what’s on stage, right? I don’t know if I want that either. That X-shaped cross looks cool and all, but it’s not for me.”
“It’s called the Saint Andrew’s Cross.” I think Ashley would look heavenly on it, but saying that now would only scare her. “That’s just equipment. You can enjoy BDSM without ever touching it.”
“What counts as BDSM then?” Ashley asks.
“Do you want me to show you?”
She nods.
I inch closer to her on the couch until I feel her sweet breath on my skin. “Tell me if you feel uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” she says, giggling nervously. Her breathing becomes shallow. The vein on her long, graceful neck pulses rapidly. She’s already aroused, and I haven’t even touched her.
Natural submissive.
“Do you trust me?”
She nods.
I put my hand behind Ashley’s neck, tangling my fingers in her hair, firm enough for her to feel my strength but gentle enough for her to feel no pain—that will come later, when she craves it.
Ashley swallows as I tilt her head back.
“Look at me,” I order.
Ashley tries to nod but my hand in her hair restricts her movement. She winces. Yet, the throbbing in her vein tells me she finds this exciting.
She meets my gaze, her gaze soft and pliable. She’s falling under my spell, opening up for me.
My cock twitches in my pants. Fuck, what is this girl doing to me? No girl has ever gotten me this worked up before, and we’re only getting started.
If she tells me to stop now, I’ll be gutted. I need to take this slow.
But those plump, full lips . . . They call my name, begging me to claim them as my own.
As Ashley’s breathing grows ragged, I give in to my silent temptress.
She feels exactly the way I thought she would—no, better. Her lips are delicate. Soft. Wet. Ashley parts her lips for me, letting me sweep inside with my tongue, getting my first taste of her. She’s so sweet I can’t wait to find out what she tastes like between her legs.
She kisses me back, but her arms remain by her side. Eager but yielding.
She’s fucking perfect.
I pull away just enough to see her lips turn red from my kiss. All I wanted was to show her a small sample of what this lifestyle could give her, keep her coming back.
But in the process, I’m giving myself a small sample of what being with her could feel like. And now I can’t hold back. Not unless she tells me to.
“Ashley,” I whisper into her mouth. Somehow, that name doesn’t suit her. I don’t know why.
“Yeah?” she sighs. She’s panting, fighting for breath. Her fingers grip the fabric of the couch so hard her knuckles have whitened.
“Let’s take this somewhere more private, kitten.”
Grace
“Let’s take this somewhere more private, kitten,” Matt says in a deep, authoritative voice I can’t refuse.
My heart pounds against my rib cage. Small pants of hot breath escape from my mouth as I give him a nod.
Matt’s big hand grasps mine, never letting go even as he fishes in his pocket for the key to open the double doors and take me through the warmly lit hallway decorated with moody paintings of naked silhouettes.
A little voice in my mind screams. What are you doing? Have you gone insane? You have no idea who this guy is. You haven’t even seen his face. What if he forces himself on you? You’ve seen how the bouncer acted around him—nobody would be able to save you from him.
I ignore the stream of judgmental questions as my heels click against the dark marble floor.
Who cares? I’ve been playing it safe my whole life, and look where it’s gotten me. I’m about to lose all my freedom.
A man I’ve never met will get to make all the decisions for me while I play the role of a decorative bauble. After all my hard work getting my degree, the only job I’m getting is to look pretty and bear babies for the family.
I’m sure it says something unflattering about me that this is how I choose to spend one of my last moments of freedom.
If Matt were to attack me, there’s no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Just look at those broad shoulders. The snug fit of his sleeves around his strong arms. The long legs that would easily outpace me. The sheer size of him—he’s easily over six feet tall.
But whatever. At least I’m doing something for myself for once.
Matt stops at a black door with a gold number 7 on it. The click of the lock opening splits through the silence. Matt reaches inside and yellow lights flood the room with warmth.