Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
The second my father started talking again, Thorn raised a hand to stop him.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said simply. "You're going to get back to London. You will not try to find your daughter again. You will receive a fund that will keep you clothed, fed, and with a roof over your head for the rest of your life, to be paid out monthly. Don't waste this fucking opportunity. Now get the hell out of here."
He seemed confused at first, but once two guards grabbed him from either side, nudging him towards the door, an expression of rage took over his face. I hid my own in Thorn's shoulder so I wouldn't have to watch my own father - something he'd never truly been - thrown into the street. Once it was all over, everyone's attention was on us, and Thorn turned to our audience while my cheeks burned with shame.
"Just a passing vagrant," he said with a bright smile. "Get back to your drinks and chatter, people."
Everyone obeyed, because he was Rueben fucking Thorn and everyone was too scared not to do what he said.
We finished the night with champagne for Thorn and orange juice for me, and by the time we got back inside the limo, I was high on the evening and the lust he woke deep inside me, raging like a beast and demanding to be sated.
"Did you enjoy the paintings?" Thorn asked, and I nodded, settling next to him, my eyes wide and a big smile on my face. "I thought they'd be to your taste."
"They were incredible," I agreed. "I wish I could've taken them all home with me."
He smiled at me affectionately and pulled me close as the limousine started driving back in the Mansion's direction.
"Strip for me," he groaned in my ear, and my cheeks flushed at the thought.
He let go of me and reached into a drawer on the door, pulling out a cigar box. He chose one carefully, his eyes never leaving mine as he bit of the end and lit it, slowly tasting the smoke.
Slowly, I slid the straps of my dress off my shoulders. I felt hot and almost drunk on the evening despite only having had one glass of champagne. But it had been incredible to leave the Mansion, to mingle with people, to feel like I fucking belonged. The art world was incredible, and I felt like a piece of it at Thorn's side, not like I was an impostor at all. I belonged there with him, and it was an intoxicating feeling that I wanted more and more of.
"Faster," he growled, and I slid the dress over my tits.
It had been impossible to wear a bra with it, and my breasts bounced as I pulled the dress around my waist. He let out a growl when I did so, and I touched my trembling fingers to my nipples, hardening them into points while he watched.
"Taste them," he ordered.
I placed a hand under my left breast and raised it to my lips, my mouth wrapping around my nipple, licking and sucking while he watched, taking long drags on the cigar.
"Gorgeous fucking whore," he muttered.
I stood up and let the dress pool around my feet. I wasn't wearing anything but my heels, but I still felt incredible because his eyes drank me in as if I was coated in 24 karat gold, dipped in opulence and luxury and ready for the taking. But he didn't, wouldn't, touch me. Instead he just smoked his cigar and stared at me like I was a work of art myself. He made me turn around and twirl in the moving limo, getting a good look at every inch of my body. I felt like a dirty girl under his watchful gaze, and he didn't stop until he'd inspected every inch of me and every crevice and orifice of my body.
"You're going to suck my dick now," he said calmly, motioning for me to get closer.
I settled between his legs and my fingers shook as I reached for his belt. But before I could undo the buckle, he slapped my hands away and my hurt eyes found his gaze.
"No hands, Rose," he warned me. "I just want that pretty, filthy mouth working me and nothing else..."
I nodded me understanding and he took out his cock, all throbbing, stiff ten inches of it, aiming it at my lips.
"Suck," he ordered, and my mouth opened on command, ready to take him inside, ready to suck him dry.
He groaned at the feeling of my lips wrapping around him, first sucking his head and then moaning loudly as I felt his precum dripping into my mouth. He chuckled at me and smoked his cigar leisurely, watching me get to work on his cock. I felt him throbbing in my mouth, every hot inch covered in my spit and his own juices, making me so fucking hungry I mewled around his girth, trying to fit his whole length into my mouth and failing miserably.