Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
His long, elegant fingers gently close around mine, and he directs the needle to the correct location and angle.
Then his emerald eyes meet mine. “Are you ready?”
I nod. “You’re mine, Dane Graham.”
He grins at me, and he appears almost drunk on pleasure.
“Oh yes, my queen,” he agrees. “All yours. Forever.”
I flush with my own pleasure, and then the tracker is lodged beneath his skin.
“Perfect,” he praises. “Good girl.”
The dichotomy of the diminutive term with the reverent endearment of being his queen makes my insides molten. With Dane, I’m worshipped and cherished, but I’m also owned, body and soul.
Now, I own him too.
Our bond is twisted and probably wrong, but I don’t care. As long as I can have my dark god, that’s all that matters to me.
He sets the syringe on the nightstand so that he can pull me in for a deep, hungry kiss. I stake my claim with my teeth, and he groans against me. He doesn’t rebuke me for my ferocity; he seems to revel in it.
We tear at each other’s clothes. Within a few frenzied minutes, I’m naked, and he’s shirtless. Before I can remove his pants, he places his big hands on my shoulders and breaks our kiss with a firm shove. My shocked gasp turns into a delighted giggle when my back hits the soft mattress.
I reach for him, but he shakes his head with a small, regretful smile. “Patience, little dove. I don’t want to fight you today.”
“I don’t want that either.” I relax, waiting for his next move.
After the intense fear and anguish of the afternoon, I want to be intimate with my husband. I don’t feel like engaging in a power struggle with him right now. All I want is to hold him and have him hold me, but he has other, more wicked ideas.
He ducks into the closet for a moment, and when he comes back to me, he’s holding a thick, black wand with a cord attached. At first, I think it’s a vibrator, but it doesn’t have a rounded head. Instead, he inserts a narrow, rounded plug into it that’s attached to a long cable that ends in a metallic silver plate.
“What’s that?” I ask, curious but also slightly anxious.
The little thrill of fear fizzes through me, fueling my mounting lust. I’m already wet and ready for him, and my inner muscles contract in anticipation of his cock.
“It’s a violet wand,” he replies, as though that explains everything.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You’ll see, my curious pet.”
He tucks the metal plate beneath his waistband, so that it’s secured against his hip.
I watch his strange actions, puzzled.
He drops a quick kiss on my forehead. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I say with the weight of an oath.
His smug smile is a touch triumphant, and I grin at him in return.
Then he plugs the wand into the power socket beside the bed and sets it down on the nightstand.
His flashing green eyes pin me like a butterfly. “Are you ready?”
I lick my lips. “Ready for what?”
His smile turns cruel. “For whatever I want to do to you.”
I lift my chin and open myself to him, allowing him to look straight into my soul. “Yes, Master.”
“Stay very still for me,” he commands, slowly lowering his hand toward my forearm.
My brows knit together in the long seconds it takes for him to bridge the gap between us. My entire body coils tight with anticipation, and every inch of my flesh comes alive for him. My skin seems to crackle and dance, but in the moment his fingers near my arm, real sparks fly.
I shout more in shock than pain when electricity arcs between us in a sizzling, tiny lighting strike. He closes the small space that separates us, and the moment his skin makes contact with mine, the spark disappears.
“What…” I gasp for breath. “I don’t understand.”
“As long as I’m touching you, we’re grounded to one another,” he explains. “But if there’s a small gap…”
He withdraws, and another sharp spark dances between us. It tingles and burns, and this time, he allows it to linger for several seconds. He splays his hand, and each finger becomes electric, stroking my arm with sizzling pleasure that rides the edge of pain.
I wriggle for a moment, overwhelmed by the strange, novel sensation.
His touch trails up my arm, raking hot lines along my sensitized skin.
“I feel it too,” he rumbles.
He pulls back, breaking the connection. I’m not sure if my short cry is one of relief or loss. His low chuckle rolls over me like warm honey, and I arch into him like a cat seeking more attention.
“Greedy little thing,” he says, voice deep and indulgent. “Tell me you want more. Beg me to torment you.”
I pause. “But you said you feel it too. Does it hurt?”
His eyes seem to glow like my own personal demonic prince. “We’ll suffer equally today, my queen.”