Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I’m sick. I’m a sick, bizarre woman. And I don’t care. I suck his cock and rub myself in quick little circles. I’m moaning with his dick in my mouth, getting spitty and sloppy, pausing only to lick my pussy-tasting fingers before going at it again. He’s staring with pure bliss in his eyes, and a part of me is happy his stupid plan is backfiring, but mostly I’m leaning into this freakish cleaning kink I just discovered.
“Keep going, you dirty fucking girl,” he commands, and I moan at that word. I’m such a filthy slut for him. It makes me feel strangely bizarre and beautiful, the way he looks at me, the way I can make this deeply masculine bastard groan like he’s about to fall apart. “Fuck, baby, look at you down on your knees. You couldn’t help yourself.”
I gasp, pleasure growing as I keep touching myself faster and faster, sucking him harder, letting his cock go deeper, until he finally lets out a strangled gasp and pushes my head down. I feel him come on my tongue and it throws me over the edge. I shatter on my fingers, orgasming as I struggle to suck and swallow him at the same time, and I finally have to pull back, gasping for air as black spots flicker at the edges of my vision.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, finally turning off the vacuum. I lick him up, cleaning him with my tongue, making sure I get everything. When I’m done with him, I lick my fingers off too. He stares at me, pure adoration in his eyes.
I get up to my feet. “We’re never talking about that ever again.”
“Talking about what?”
“Exactly.” I turn on my heel, embarrassment starting to hit me.
“But I have to know.” He follows as I hurry upstairs to change out of my ruined panties. “Was it the nudity or the vacuum?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“That was weird!”
“It was definitely unusual,” he agrees and grabs my wrist before I can hide in the bathroom. “But I liked it.”
“You did?”
He kisses me softly but with a real hunger. “Absolutely. Now tell me which it was.”
“A little bit of both,” I admit.
“You’re a beautiful freak.” I try to pull away, but he holds me tight. “I’ll do the laundry naked later.”
God help me, a little thrill flickers in my belly. “Seriously, don’t joke.”
“I’m not joking at all. I’ll straighten naked too.”
I let out a groan. “I hate this.”
“I love it.”
“Can I please shut the bathroom door and hide with my shame for a while?”
“Only if you stop calling it shame.” He kisses me again, soft and tender. “I like bringing out that side of you.”
“I like it too,” I admit, even if I’m still a little weirded out by my own feelings.
“Good.” He brushes a thumb down my cheek and over my lips. “Good girl.”
I shut the bathroom door in his face.
And grin to myself in the mirror.
I have a feeling the house is going to be a lot cleaner from now on.
Chapter 20
Seamus
I’m in a good mood as I head to Oliver’s place with a box of scarves.
Life’s strange right now. The apartment is covered in security equipment. There’s not a single inch of space that isn’t watched by at least one camera and one motion sensor. When the system’s armed, there’s not a human alive who could get inside.
And for the first time in my life, I enjoy cleaning.
I’ve never had a problem keeping my space neat. Obviously not to Alina’s standards, since those are unreasonable, but pretty good anyway.
Now I love it.
Doing the laundry is great when it involves breaking my wife up against the dryer.
I have a feeling she’s doing this on purpose. Like my whole cleaning naked thing was designed to mess with her, and now she’s fighting back.
By having lots of raunchy sex with me.
Which only encourages more cleaning.
It’s a virtuous cycle, one I’m happy to engage in.
I’m smiling to myself as I climb Oliver’s steps. I brought him a few extras from the latest shipment Alina got in at the shop this morning. I hope he likes them. A good information broker is worth all the fancy scarves in the world.
I knock twice and pause. The door creaks open like someone left it slightly ajar. I frown, staring at the gap, and drop the box.
My gun’s in my hand, the metal cold and comforting.
Oliver is as obsessed with security as I am. He’s in a difficult business. Most people use his services, but very few of them like him. Everyone knows he’ll betray them for the right price, and I’m sure he has more than a few enemies.
Which is why he’d never leave his fucking door open in the middle of the day.
I slip inside. The place is warm like the air hasn’t been running at all. Junk’s piled all over. I pause, listening carefully, but can’t hear anything.