Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Reaching out in front of her between her legs, she turns the knob on the vibrator, bringing it to life. The buzzing sound now fills the room.
Lying back again flat, she listens to the girl get fucked on the TV while the vibrator rests against her cunt.
I step out from behind the curtains and walk over to the side of the bed. I pull out my cock and quietly spit in my hand.
I came here tonight to get her off one last time as the masked man she knows. But this is way better. I want to watch her do it. See what she thinks she needs. I watch her hips lift off the bed while she grabs the headboard as if her wrists are tied to it.
God, I want to straddle her neck and force my cock down her throat. It takes all of my restraint not to—the masked man doesn’t fuck her—when she starts moaning. Her breathing accelerates and so does my hand.
Her body twists and turns, her chest rising and falling fast with each sharp intake of breath. She comes with a cry, and I have a moment of panic that she’s going to rip off the blindfold and see me, expect me to get her off, but she doesn’t. She remains where she is, needing more.
Fuck, I love that she’s never satisfied. This is what I want. A challenge. I’ll fuck her until she forgets who she is, leaving a tally of her orgasms on her chest as a reminder that only I can give her what she needs.
I continue to jack off, watching her tits bounce from her heavy breathing while the chains of her nipple clamps rattle from her harsh movements. She takes in a deep breath, her stomach caving in, and I look over her prominent ribs, imagining my handprints on them. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip when I really want it to be her neck.
Arching her back, she comes again, and I can’t help it. My balls tighten, and I hold my breath as I come all over the decorative pillow she wiped herself on earlier.
Her body sags only for a second while the vibrator is still between her legs. Her cunt now sensitive, she starts panting again. Closing her mouth, she swallows, and I slowly make my way back behind the curtain to watch the rest of the show.
She continues for another five minutes but doesn’t get off this time. Instead, she raises her tied hands and rips off the blindfold, throwing it to the floor. Angrily, she undoes the belts around her legs, grabs the wand, and turns it off before tossing it away as well. Then she reaches over to grab the knife she placed on the bed and manages to cut her wrists free. I like to think I taught her that the first time I was in here with her.
She whimpers, removing her nipple clamps, and then shuts her TV off. Rolling over, she gives me her back, and I hear her huff. But just when I think she’s about to fall asleep, she opens up her drawer again and removes the other cell phone I gave her and angrily types away on it. Then she puts it back, shutting the drawer.
I wait impatiently while listening to her heavy breathing even out, and she falls asleep.
Quietly, I step out from behind the curtain and walk over to her side of the bed. I open the top drawer of her nightstand and look over to see what else she has left in there. A ball gag, a bag of zip ties, and a paddle that says SLUT across it. A choker that reads whore.
My cock is hard again, begging me to use everything on her at once. A part of me wants to take advantage of this situation right now, but I have to wait.
Closing her balcony doors behind me, I pull out my cell to see she had sent me a message on the app. Thankfully, I had it on silent.
Little Demon: Never mind. I did it myself.
I smile. She thinks she’s going to get a rise out of me—the masked man who makes her come—but she has no fucking clue what’s about to come her way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ELLINGTON
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I run up the stone steps and enter my best friend’s house without even knocking. I’m like her parents’ adopted child. Our parents are best friends. We grew up together.
“Good morning, Elli.” Mrs. Sinnett smiles at me softly, picking up her Louis Vuitton off the round glass table that sits in the middle of their grand foyer.
“Morning, Janice. Is Kira ready?”
She gives a little laugh, heading for the door, and I hold it open for her while her red Dior heels clap on their marble floor. “Is she ever on time, honey?”