My Little Farm Girl Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 113717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
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Her shoes were the same fawn color as her pants, flats this time, since she’d be doing a lot of walking around today.

I left her long enough to take my own shower and get ready before going back to her.

“What should I do with my hair?” she turned those big wide-open, innocent eyes up to me and I had to restrain myself. Running my fingers through the long length of her hair I held it up to my nose out of her sight.

She purred like a kitten when I played with it, dragging my fingers from her scalp to the tips of it.

“Leave it down, I like looking at it.” She smiled and ran the brush through it for a few strokes before replacing it and turning to me. “There, done, I’m ready.”

I took her hand and led her out of the room and the apartment. It was a warm day for late September but there was still a bit of cool in the air. I used that as an excuse to draw her under my arm as we walked to the car.

Already I could sense the proprietary way in which I walked next to her, with my body shielding hers, my larger girth between her and the other pedestrians on the sidewalk.

Shaking my head at the driver, I sat her myself before heading around to the other side. “Nervous?” I looked over at her as I took her hand in mine, moving them both to my thigh.

She squeezed my hand as she looked out the window, feigning interest in the passing scenery, but I could tell that she was very aware of me, of my touch. The racing pulse in her throat was a dead giveaway.

“A little, but you’ll be there won’t you?”

“Of course.” I looked into her eyes for a little longer than was necessary when I gave her my answer.

For the few minutes we were trapped in the car I continued my quest to find out all that I can about her.

I learned of her insecurities, her hang-ups, and saw her innocence shining through loud and clear. It was like waving a red flag before a bull, that sweet innocence. I wanted to possess every ounce of it.

She was like an open book, for all her quiet reserve. As soon as I got her talking, the information just flowed effortlessly.

I had made up my mind sometime in the predawn hours as I laid alone in bed with my cock hard and aching, that I wasn’t going to prolong her initiation.

The time that it would’ve taken to get her out of Marion’s home had been cut way down, and now there was really no reason to wait. Other than maybe to make sure I was reading her right.

I had a war with myself over that one. One side of me wanted to give her the time she might need to adjust to a life as my sub. The Dom in me said ‘I don’t give a fuck, she’s mine and I’m taking her’. What a bastard.

I had the contract all drawn up and ready for her to sign, just as soon as I’d started on her. It’s funny, but, for as ling as I’ve known what I was, I’d never been interested in such things. Contracts and playrooms and rules.

I knew about the lifestyle, had even tampered with it a bit to a lesser degree. For me, the idea of contracts and playrooms seemed a bit too contrived. Until I met her, now I fully understand the drive, the need behind such things.

At least my idea of what they meant. I have the burning need to own her completely, in every way imaginable.

What she wears, what she eats, where she goes! A marriage contract, which I plan to get around to eventually, though binding, doesn’t say much in this day and age I’m sorry to say. People break those left and right with less thought than they give to picking out a new home.

The contract I’d drawn up would see her locked to me for the rest of her natural life. It helped that she was a natural; that she so effortlessly gave over to me, though she didn’t even seem to realize it, and what her actions meant. It was all I could do not to fall on the poor girl like a starving wolf and feast.

***

The salon owner was there, waiting for us when we arrived and whisked us away to a private stall in the back, where I suppose they took care of special clientele.

She was already hands deep in my Kitten’s hair going on and on about the beauty of it. I sat in the proffered chair and watched the activities in silence after telling the woman what I wanted done to her hair. I had my own visions of what I wanted it to look like.


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