Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“You didn’t think we were done, did you, Mostriciattola?” he asks, a devilish glint in his eyes. And that’s when I realize we haven’t even scratched the surface of his stamina and depravations, and I’m already spent. But being tied up, I have nothing to do but to take it.
Oh no, what’s a girl to do?
CHAPTER 29
Posie
The man is a monster.
A monster with a hunger and sex drive I didn’t think possible. When Dutton and I fuck, the most unhinged and rawest version of him comes out—tonight is the perfect example. And I’m sure I haven’t even scratched the surface of his desires.
It makes me feel inexperienced, especially when comparing myself to a man who runs an empire in the sex industry. But I remind myself there’s clearly something I have to offer him that keeps him coming back.
My head is on his chest as I lay there limply. I don’t plan on sleeping over for the night, but I need at least an hour or two so I can feel my fucking legs and arms because right now, their official status is dead weight.
He’s rubbing an ointment into my skin where the restraints cut in, leaving red, raw marks. He doesn’t seem apologetic for putting them there, and honestly, I quite like the way it stings.
Am I as twisted as he is and don’t realize it? Sure, I earned money by putting my body on display for men and their fantasies, but I never let anyone have sex with me. Let alone… this.
I watch as he massages my wrists, the gold ring shining in the light coming in from the window. He’s since turned on the electric fireplace, which crackles across the room. The sheets and blankets have been discarded on the floor.
“Where did you get this ring?” I ask. I don’t know much about Dutton, and I don’t plan on having heart-to-hearts with him since this is just sex, but I’ve always been curious about the square-shaped ring.
He raises his hand to look at it. “It’s a painful addition for a right hook.” I roll my eyes, and he chuckles, something I’ve noticed he’s doing more lately. “My father gave it to me when I turned sixteen. The same night he divulged secrets of his past, I imagine he never shared with anyone. I was surprised he even told me. But my father’s sly in those ways. He gives merit to everything he does, and it only hardened my resolve that, no matter what, I’ll always protect my family. The wealth, power, and influence are who I am… entirely. But I’d be none of those things without my family. They wouldn’t serve a purpose if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.”
My eyebrows wrinkle as I adjust myself to see him better. “So why haven’t you started your own family, then?”
He chuckles again. “You sound like my parents.” And there’s more ammunition in that statement than I care to acknowledge.
“Do you not want marriage and children?”
“No,” he simply says.
“Why?” Why wouldn’t he want that if he cares so much for his family? Especially with the type of family he comes from. Legacy and all that shit?
“I make calculated steps in everything I do. I’m a man who lives and breathes my work. I won’t let someone take that from me or lure my attention away.
“I’d be a terrible husband. I travel often and answer to no one. My wife would end up despising me, and my family would pity her. I’d suddenly look like an asshole for simply doing and being who I’ve been all along. Marriage is not for everyone. Especially for an asshole like me.”
“Wow, you’re surprisingly self-aware,” I say, resting my head against his chest again. He chuckles, but I find it sad.
I think about my parents’ marriage. My father traveled often for his sales job, but he and my mother always made time for each other. But I don’t disagree with Dutton. Marriage isn’t for everyone.
“Do you want those things?” he asks.
I sigh because it’s been a loaded question for some time now. I didn’t want to step into any relationship after how Bobbi treated me. I’ve watched so many unfaithful men come through Pearl, and yet, deep down, there’s still the glimmer of a fantasy that there could be someone special out there for me. Someone who will love me for me and treat Bentley like his own son.
“I think so,” I confess. “One day, I’d like Bentley to have a father, maybe even a sibling or two. I was an only child and loved my independence, but Bentley loves people. I think he’d thrive with a little sister to protect,” I say with a smile.
Silence fills the room at the strangeness of the situation, of telling my boss about my desires for marriage and children after fucking him.