Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Easy,” he cautioned as I found my feet beneath me.
I winced and bit back a hiss of pain. Soreness radiated from every muscle and the area between my legs felt as if it had been abused by a heated pole. He led me toward what I assumed was the bathroom, his touch surprisingly gentle as we crossed the threshold.
I took it all in, slightly awed.
The gothic undertones and luxury of his bedroom were present here as well, from the arched ceilings to the chandelier that hung gracefully above the massive, obsidian jacuzzi tub already filled with water. He wordlessly helped me step down into the bathtub.
I almost sighed out loud as I sank into the warm, inviting water. Frothy bubbles served as a barrier between my naked body and his piercing stare. I was relieved when he excused himself and left the room.
The water held a scent that was uniquely his with a hint of the body wash I’d used the night prior.
It was almost as if he had taken the time to create an environment that catered to my wellbeing. It was hard to compare this man to the one that forced himself inside me while I slept and branded my flesh. At the reminder of the mark, there was an ache where it had been placed. I explored the area with my fingers, drawing them away when a sticky substance brushed against them.
I examined my fingertips thoughtfully, catching a whiff of something similar to aloe vera. So, he hurt me, and then applied a salve? I returned to my examination, tracing over the mark. It was a letter inside of a circle—an A. More than likely the same one I kept seeing. I had no idea what it represented—the story of my life lately.
The only thing I was certain of was that Mr. Hawthorne wanted me as his… what was the word he used? Electi? I didn’t know what that meant either. I was pretty sure the people here were fluent in Latin, or maybe Spanish. And then there were those other women that had been branded before I was. Who were they?
I sighed and sank deeper into the water, closing my eyes for a moment. A soft thud had them flying back open. I glanced around the room but didn’t see anything or anyone. To my left, a large walk-in shower with intricate fixtures beckoned.
The space was large enough to host a small gathering and even had a stone bench in its center. On the back side of the room, a partially open door seemed to lead to a sprawling walk-in closet. I could see a glimpse of dark colored clothes on hangers but not anyone inside.
To the right of that door was another, and if I had to guess, I’d say it led to the toilet because there wasn’t one anywhere else. I slowly turned my body, creating a silent ripple in the water. There were two bowl sinks side by side atop a sleek marble countertop. The sinks were a juxtaposition of elegance and functionality.
Above them hung a massive mirror. It stretched across the expanse of the wall, its frame a work of art in itself that held a hint of antiquity, capturing and reflecting the subdued light that filtered in through the arched windows.
I continued turning until I was back in my previous position and could gaze beyond the confines of the bathroom. The wall of curved windows framed a breathtaking view of the lake. The water's surface shimmered under the early morning sunlight, casting a serene and hypnotic spell.
I could just make out the silhouette of a lighthouse in the distance. It added an eerie touch to the scene, a beacon that seemed to guide lost souls but was unable to reach mine. Immersed in my thoughts and quiet solitude, I almost didn’t see Mr. Hawthorne until he was on the other side of tub.
His presence alerted me to his arrival seconds before he stepped into my line of sight and wordlessly commanded attention.
“Mind if I join you, deliciae?" he asked, his voice a low purr. It was a question as much as it was an invitation, a challenge, and a promise. He removed the towel with one hand, leaving it to drop to the floor.
A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through me as he stood unapologetically naked. The sight of his bare form was both unexpected and arresting. I inadvertently traced the contours of his toned muscles, his body a canvas of strength and power. I tried my best not to look at his cock and failed.
The fragile walls I had erected were on the verge of crumbling. I forced myself to meet his gaze, smoothing my expression into a blank slate. His eyes held mine, revealing nothing and everything all at once. A faint smile played on his lips as if he knew the effect that he had on me. I think he reveled in it.