Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I grab her by the chin, the need to dominate her a force I can’t fight. “I also have a condition.” We’re shuffling toward the bed again, one footstep at a time. “I want you to bend over the end of the mattress.”
Her eyes widen. “This is our first time. You’re not fucking me from behind.”
“I’m not fucking you at all. This is more than sex, Sadie.” I run my thumb across her lips. “I’m going to share with you what I’ve never shared with anyone.”
She bites her lip, and I let out a low growl. “Head down, ass up. Before we get to our firsts, I need you to submit to me.”
So there’s no question of who’s in charge here, I peel the shirt from my body and drop it on the floor. Planting my feet shoulder-width apart, I hammer home our roles with my rigid posture as I settle my hands on my hips.
My job keeps me fit, and I’m no stranger to the inside of a gym. Next to her feminine, petite form, there’s no contest who has the physical advantage.
The longer she stares at me, the more her pupils dilate.
My cock is big enough to choke her, and it has, multiple times. She’s probably a little apprehensive at the thought of taking all of me inside her.
“What do you mean by submit?”
“What do you think I mean?”
“You want to spank me?”
“Fuck yes.”
“But it’s your birthday. Aren’t you getting this ritual a little backwards?”
“Semantics, sweetheart.” I whirl her and push her over the end of the mattress. She raises her ass in the language of invitation, and the arch of her spine is graceful, the exquisite curvature of female beauty.
Round bottom exposed, cheeks left bare from the strip of lace running between them. She wore that scrap of lace for me, and that’s as good as her begging for my hand.
That first night at the club, when everything between us changed, I thought she was too innocent for a guy like me.
Too pure.
But Sadie Sawyer is far from innocent. She might be dressed in the hue of purity, her virginity intact, but her kinky streak is as real as my love for her, and it’s begging to come out to play.
I plan to bring her onto my playground with every orgasm and firm strike of my hand.
Chapter Forty-one
Sadie
Ashton’s hands are magic, zapping my system like a live wire. As he trails his fingers over my shoulders and down my spine, I feel his touch at the core of my sex.
“Clasp your hands together.” He draws them to the small of my back. “Don’t move.”
As I interlock my fingers, Ashton nudges my feet apart, and the space between them throbs, my pulse gallops, and a shiver travels down my backside. I’m exposed to his gaze, vulnerable to his whims, the thin piece of lace the only thing barring his access to my pussy.
His breathing is a soughing song, his warmth permeates the winter chill, and his presence…it’s more overpowering than I remember.
The soft pad of feet hint at movement, and he settles between my spread legs, the crown of his erection a frustrating tease against my slit. He leans over me, skin hot against mine, and wraps my thick hair around his fist.
“Head up. Understand?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He gives my hair a gentle tug. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”
My breath hitches. “I understand.”
“That’s my girl.” He loosens his fist, and my locks slip free. With each shift of his body, his jeans are a coarse sensation against my legs, arousing me further, eliciting sporadic whimpers.
“Best birthday present ever.” He settles his palms on my ass. “You have no clue how gorgeous you are, do you?”
“Freckles and all?”
“Especially your freckles,” he says, caressing the lone one on my left butt-cheek.
“Ash?” His name tumbles off my tongue with an unspoken question. An unspoken need tightening my core.
“What’s on my girl’s mind?”
“I need you to touch me.”
He smacks my ass. “Ambiguity will get you in trouble, Sawyer. Tell me where you want me to touch you.”
I groan, and if my cheeks weren’t flushed before, they are now. “You know where. Between my legs.”
He caresses my inner thigh. “I can touch you like this all night. Tell me where.”
He’s going to make me say it.
“My pussy.”
He dips his fingers beneath the edge of lace, and as those digits spear into me, I lose control of my breathing. He works me into a lustful frenzy with the shallow thrusts of his fingers, and I need more. God, I need more.
I arch into his touch, my muscles tightening with the need to come, but he refuses to finger me deeper.
“Please, Ash.”
That’s when his palm connects with my flesh. I jump, the strength of that blow a sharp sting, and I cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He spanks me again and again, alternating butt-cheeks as he sinks those fingers inside me a little deeper. Self-conscious of the noise I’m making with every strike of his hand, I muffle my next cry into the bedding.