Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
We come to a room with two large wooden doors, and I hear Hope’s laugh flutter through the open one. I immediately look over Lena’s shoulder as she leads us into the room, and I see Hope is playing chess with her father.
“You’re awake,” Hope squeals and immediately jumps out of her chair. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been shot,” I deadpan, glancing at Alek, who tugs his gloves on.
“I had arrangements made with your chief. I told him you’re feeling unwell,” Alek says, then pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “I suggest you stay sick for the next week.”
“You went through my phone?” I accuse.
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation or remorse. “And I’d appreciate if you didn’t stalk my daughter’s Instagram so often.”
“Dad!” Hope chides.
“Just because you’re in a relationship, it doesn’t mean you should get distracted from your career,” he warns.
Lena pulls him by his hand. “Come on, dear, we’re going to have another private discussion about how our little girl is all grown up.” She leads him out of the room, and at first, I don’t think he’s going to leave until she whispers something in his ear that immediately has his attention.
“Eww,” Hope says as they close the door. “What did you and my mother talk about?” she asks, wrapping her arms around me and looking up at me through her glasses.
I don’t go into detail about my revelation about my mother and my slight envy that Hope has always had parents like this to support her. What I do say is, “Your parents would do anything to protect you.”
She smiles. “Hence why you got shot in the stomach.”
I smirk, my cock twitching at the thought of taking her in her father’s office. I’m certain it’ll piss him off.
“I’ll take as many bullets as I have to. I do have a serious question for you, however,” I say as I lift her. She squawks in protest but wraps her legs around my waist, and I ignore the searing pain as I step over to her father’s desk. “Do you want all of this serial killer business to go away?”
Her eyebrows furrow. “I can’t just switch it off. If that’s what you’re asking of me, then—”
“No.” I quickly cut her off. “I meant with the media. I can make it all go away. Or do you want it to remain unsolved?”
Her mouth opens and then closes as if she’s not sure how to answer as I place her on the desk and begin kissing down her neck.
She giggles. “We’re in my dad’s office.”
“Answer the question, Shortcake, or you’ll be punished until you do,” I warn, reaching under her dress and pushing her panties to the side, then inserting two fingers inside her. She hisses, her gaze going hooded as she tries to speak but can’t. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I’m not ready for it to go away yet,” she says breathlessly as she leans back and watches me with amazement as I pump my fingers into her pussy. My little she-devil is full of ego. I fucking love it. Love how she gets off on her own scandal, all the while pretending to be sweet and innocent.
“I have another question for you,” I say as I undo my belt and free my cock that’s itching to claim her all over again. I never thought I’d see her again, never again experience what her pussy feels like. My pussy. My woman. My claim.
“Aren’t you awfully chatty today,” she sasses, then gasps as I shove my cock into her pussy, impaling her. I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her air, and her cunt envelops my cock. Fuck, she feels good. Like home. My home.
“I want you to tell me you’re my woman and that the only way you’re getting out of this, us” —I slam into her again to make a point, and she moans— “is by one of us dying.”
I pound into her, claiming and bruising her from the inside. “That sounds like marital vows,” she whispers, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as I thrust into her. My hand grips her throat harder. It’d be so easy to break her, and it’s so tempting to chain her up and keep her to myself.
“Call it what you want.” Thrust. “And I’ll do whatever you need.” Thrust. “Matching tattoos.” Thrust. “Rings.” Thrust. “Everything I have is yours. But you will always be mine.” I bite her jaw, and she hisses as her fingers dig into my wound. I keel over, my vision dancing with light.
I’m still inside of her as she smirks and says, “Of course, dear. But don’t ever forget who’s truly in control here.” Her nails drag from my wound up to my lips. I can taste my own blood before she leans in and kisses me, my cock twitching with excitement at how feral this woman makes me.