Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
I gulp at the bulge I see there.
“Are you going to…?” I clear my throat as I feel my nipples harden, the space between my legs growing unbelievably warm. “Are you going to turn around while I undress?”
He shakes his head. “Ruby, I raised you. You can change in front of me.”
I hesitate, my body feeling light and heavy at the same time. My breasts are aching, filling with milk. God. I hardly even remember how to move as I lay the dress aside and start stripping out of my own clothes.
Stripping for him.
As I unzip my skirt and let it fall, I can’t decide whether I prefer him seeing me from the front or from behind. I’ve honestly never thought of either as my best feature.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his eyes dart down to the front of my panties. “Wet.”
“Oh, god,” I hiss, feeling a burst of warmth spread from my body. I want to reach down and cover myself but he shakes his head.
“Don’t hide from me, Ruby. Do as I say. Finish taking your clothes off.”
I nod, his voice connecting with me in a way that can’t be denied.
My breasts ache as I drag the tank top up over my head, the pads already soaked with my release, but the way his eyes hover over each nipple only makes them leak more. I fumble with the new dress as I put it on, Eli not saying a word as he watches me.
And then I turn to look at myself in the mirror.
“Oh my god…” I gasp at the sight.
The dress is beautiful. And the assistant wasn’t wrong when she said it would go with my eyes. It’s probably the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen myself in.
I twist one way, then the other, taking a look at myself from all angles.
Then I feel his hands on my bare shoulders.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“You’re beautiful,” he growls. “You’d look good in a fucking potato sack. But I have to agree, it would be a shame for this dress to have anyone but you in it.”
I draw a deep, unbelieving breath as I take another look at myself.
Then notice the dark patches spreading from my bust.
“Oh no!” I hiss. “I’ve ruined it… I’ve… This dress is four thousand dollars!”
I try to bring my hands up to cover the milk stains spreading over the exclusive fabric.
But Eli takes hold of my wrists and pushes them back down, leaning in to brush his lips against my throat. “It’s perfect.”
“What do you mean? I’ve ruined a four thousand dollar—”
“Worth every penny,” he murmurs, sweeping his hands up my back. I hear the rasp of the zipper and feel cool air on my back.
“Let’s just go,” I say, wriggling as his hands gently unclasp my bra. “Everything here is so fake. I love the farm.”
“And I love your milk.”
The front of the dress falls away, taking my bra and pads with it, and he growls as he licks his lips. Is this wrong? I don’t care. I need it.
“They’re so heavy,” I tell him, feeling the truth of those words. “Will you…?”
“Fuck yes.”
His lips go to my right breast and relief washes over me as he begins to suckle. He moves from one to the other, then back, sucking out the milk and gulping it down as he holds me around the waist. I moan as I feel them lighten, the ache easing even as the wetness between my legs grows.
God, I could take him inside me right here, right now. Even with the assistants no doubt listening to us from outside.
I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it.
This is everything. This is my world.
When he finally pulls away and wipes the back of his hand over his lips, I laugh at the stupid grin he flashes my way.
“Right. We’re taking the dress,” he says. “But you’re also going to need to pick out shoes and a purse. And if there’s anything else you need, you just let me know.”
CHAPTER 8
Eli
I hear raised voices before I even get back to the house, and I see a car I don’t recognize pulled up on the grass beside the lane leading to our farm.
A low growl releases from my chest. There’s always some shit.
When we got back from Carmel I left Ruby in the house to change and shower and whatever else girls her age want to do when they get back from a shopping trip, while I shoved my feet in my boots and headed out to the cow shed. A working farm is a working farm, and as much as I want to spend time with her there are chores that have to be done first.
Now I’m wishing I stayed just a few minutes longer. Because whatever is happening in there, it’s clear it’s been happening for a while.