Nobody Does It Better Read Online Lexi Blake (Masters and Mercenaries #15)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Romance, Suspense, Tear Jerker Tags Authors: Series: Masters and Mercenaries Series by Lexi Blake
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Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
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“Haven’t you figured out that I don’t care what other people think? Not about this. Not about much. I find people who care about me no matter what and I try to stick close to them. Are you going to hurt me?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.” Her body relaxed and then tensed again as he forced her head back.

“I hope you mean that.” He leaned over. So close she could almost feel his lips on hers, knew she was about to get what she wanted.

And then moved away. Yeah, that part sucked. The spankings and canings and that part where he pinched her nipples right before licking them was awesome, but the no kissing was starting to rankle.

One more wall she couldn’t climb.

He stopped and his hand fell away. “I’m on the edge. I went out to take a call and a fucking photographer showed up.”

She could handle that. “Do you want me to kill him? I have a really slender knife with me. One good poke through the right ribs and up into his heart and he won’t even bleed too much. I can leave him in a nice alley and it could be days before someone thinks he’s not just sleeping it off.”

He stopped for a moment and he had that look on his face—the one lots of people got when she talked. It was that “what did you say?” look. “You’re not joking. Sometimes I have to remind myself that you’re not joking.”

Sometimes she was. This time she wasn’t. “No. If he’s out there, I’ll take care of it.”

Something seemed to ease inside him, his shoulders coming down the barest notch. “Take care of me instead. Stand up and go over to the chair. I want you to bend over. This discipline isn’t about anything you’ve done wrong. It’s not to correct a behavior or to instill a lesson. This discipline is about me. I need to spank your ass until it’s red and know you like it. I need to put a mark on you and know you accept it. If you don’t want that or it scares you, I’ll find another way.”

She couldn’t help it. Her eyes rolled. She’d loved to say they kind of did that on their own, but the idea that a spanking scared her made her bratty side come out.

“What did you just do?” That hand was back in her hair, twisting viciously this time, forcing her to look him in the eyes. This time, the pain sizzled along her scalp, lighting it up. “Did you roll your eyes at me when I was kindly explaining what the parameters of the scene were?”

Put that way, it might not have been the most polite thing to do. “I wasn’t rolling them at you. I was rolling them because of you. I’ve been tortured by professionals.”

“Then I’ll have to up my game, won’t I? I’ll have to try harder so I don’t bore you.” He leaned over, his mouth against her ear. “You should feel lucky that I’m not equipped to properly discipline you. If I had a tube of ginger lube right now, I would show you what I do to brats who roll their eyes at me. I suspect that by the time we’re done here, the impulse will have passed, but you should know it would not go well for you right now.”

The threat sent a delicious shiver down her spine. This was what she’d been missing with the Doms at The Garden. They were all about the play, and not one of them would have seriously punished her. The relationship wasn’t intimate enough.

“Since I don’t have a handy tube of lube,” he began, “go and bend over that chair. Your legs better be fucking wide and your back straight. Go. Go right fucking now or I’ll start this here and you won’t like it.”

Like? She loved how rough his voice was. He was on the edge, but she trusted him not to fall over it. This was how he was trying to keep himself sane. She moved as quickly as she could, crossing the space between her and that chair, getting into position so he wouldn’t have any other reason to punish her. When she turned her head, she could see him in the mirror.

His jeans had tented, the long line of his erection plain against the denim. How long would it be before he ditched the jeans and stroked that big dick in his hand? She loved watching him as he stroked himself and stalked her. He was staring at her now, his eyes on her form.

He moved to the place where she’d draped the pretty blue dress over the chair closest to the velvet curtains. “I like this, Kay. It looks beautiful on you. We’ll get this for you. After we get back from Mexico, awards season starts. You can wear this to the Oscars and I’ll find a place to fuck you backstage. You’ll do that, right? You’ll let me fuck you backstage? You’ll spread your legs and welcome my cock while they announce best picture and everyone’s clapping. They’ll really be clapping because of how well and thoroughly I’ll have you that night.”


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