Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
It’s drugging, mind-numbing, like a kaleidoscope of color and sound.
My balls slap against her, and the smacking sounds drive me further toward the brink.
She’s ready, too.
I feel her right on the edge with me.
But she won’t come.
Not yet.
Not until—
“Come, Skye. Come for me.”
She explodes around me, her pussy walls hugging my thrusting cock, pushing me further, further, further… “That’s it, baby. Show me. Show me how you come for me.”
“Braden!” she shouts. “My God, Braden! So good! I can’t. I can’t… Braden!”
She’s coming and coming, and though she’s arching and grinding into me, she’s no longer pulling at the restraints.
She’s accepted my control over her.
Accepted her place in this bedroom.
And my God…I’ve never been so ready for release in my life.
I give her one last thrust and release.
I give to her my body.
And with it…
I give to her my heart.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“You’re beautiful,” I say, stroking her cheek. “You have an amazing ‘just-fucked’ look.”
I remove the blindfold and release her wrists.
She rubs them.
“Okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Probably more instinct than anything. You took good care of me.”
“I always will.”
She smiles, wraps her arms around me, and kisses my lips lightly.
I love her.
I truly love her.
I may not be ready to say it aloud, but I will. Soon.
She gazes beyond me then, out the windows to the illuminated Boston Harbor, a contemplative look on her face.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“How perfect this all is.”
“Can’t argue with you there.”
“Yes, the sex was amazing and perfect, but I mean everything else, too. The way the light from the harbor is shining in here. How it could perfectly capture…”
“What?”
“I want to do a post from here. Standing in front of the window.”
I cock my head slightly. A post here? At my place? My private life is private. I’ve never posted anything from my home. Kay Brown will jump on this.
“You don’t like the idea.”
“I haven’t heard the idea in its entirety, Skye. Go on.”
“My three posts for the first contract were casual, formal, and dramatic. I’ve done the casual and formal. And I’m thinking…this would be perfect for dramatic. You say I have a ‘just-fucked’ look. What if I wrapped myself in a sheet, wore the lip stain, and stood in front of this window? I can adjust the lighting so it will work beautifully. I can’t think of anything more dramatic.”
I edge into a smile. “It’s brilliant.” Kay Brown be damned.
“Will you let me do it, then? Will you?” Her eyes dance.
“I will. You just can’t post that you’re at my place.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” she says. “Our private life is private.”
“Don’t be surprised if the Babbler does some kind of exposé.”
“Good point. I’ll wear a robe instead of a sheet.”
“God, no, Skye. Wear the sheet. You’ll sell so much lip stain that Eugene what’s her name won’t know what hit her.”
She heads into the bathroom with her purse and then emerges with her lips painted Cherry Russet. I watch in amazement as she sets up the shot. She tests different angles with her phone, makes adjustments to the camera. A few minutes later, she hands her phone to me and pushes me to a point on the floor.
“Stand right here. I want a profile shot against the harbor. Make sure you get a good shot of my lips.”
She takes her place at the window, and though I’m mesmerized by her beauty, I instantly know what will make her lips stand out even more.
“Wait,” I say.
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” I walk to my closet and find the box containing the black mask I purchased in New York. Talk about dramatic. “Wear this.”
“A mask?”
She may be the expert on photography, but I’m the expert on Skye Manning’s beauty. “Trust me. Go to the bathroom and put it on. See what you think.”
She nods and traipses into the bathroom, securing the sheet around her.
She returns transformed. As beautiful as ever, but those lips—those sexy lips that are going to make Susanne lip stain fly off every shelf in America—are front and center.
She returns to the window where I wait, still holding her phone.
“You look breathtaking,” I say.
“Remember, it’s the lip stain I’m selling.”
How can I forget? The mask makes the lips stand out like crimson on snow. “I’ll take several,” I tell her.
“We’ll get a good one.” She adjusts her stance at the window.
“Smile,” I say. Then, “No, don’t. Part your lips in that sexy way.”
She chuckles and then moves her mouth.
“Perfect.” I shoot several photos and regard the screen.
Skye can’t take a bad photo. She’s too beautiful. They’re all stunning, but it’s the second one that floors me. She’s focused on nothing in particular, as if she’s contemplating something almost ethereal.
“The second one, Skye. Use the second one.”
She takes the phone from me and peruses the photos. Then she nods, taps into her phone, and then tosses it to me.