Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Your cheeks are flushed, and I’d bet my right hand that virgin pussy’s wet. Admit it, you’re pulsing for my cock, like a slut who gets off on the thought of being used. Is your precious little clit starting to throb? I bet you’d come if I gave it a slap.”
Everything he said was true. Her body responded to every word. “Did you put something in the food?”
He laughed. “No, I didn’t poison your food.”
She didn’t mean poison. “I don’t feel right.”
“What do you feel?”
She swallowed. Her body was thrumming with strange energy. “I don’t know. I feel trapped in my own skin.” She fidgeted, unsure why his words were having such an effect on her.
“But you’ve felt this before, haven’t you? I can picture it—you lying on some ruffled bed surrounded by opulence you did nothing to earn. Did it feel good, sliding your fingers through your wet folds, knowing at any moment someone could have walked in and caught you? Did you enjoy the thrill of possibly being caught, darling? I bet you bit your fist when you started to moan, only to discover you liked a hint of pain.”
She couldn’t breathe. How did he know so much? Had he been watching her?
“You tried so hard to bring yourself relief, didn’t you? Did you shut your eyes and imagine someone else’s hands on you?”
Again, he was right, and her startled look likely confirmed his suspicions. She’d tried and tried, but she couldn’t get there. The closest she came was when she wrapped a hand around her throat, pretending she couldn’t get away.
“Tell me, darling, was the hand you imagined that of your sweet friend Peter Pangbourne?”
“What? No.”
“Then who?”
He was right. She had touched herself. But she never imagined Peter. It was always someone darker, someone without a face. “I don’t see Peter that way.”
“But you see yourself that way, don’t you?”
She licked her dry lips and met his stare.
“Tell me the truth. Tell me you act like a dirty little slut when you’re all alone, desperately wishing someone would treat you like one.”
She couldn’t deny it. He read her too well. “How…?”
The side of his mouth curved up. “You reek of secrets. I can smell them through your pretty manners as much as I can smell the arousal seeping down your thighs. And, because I’m so certain you’re not the good girl you pretend to be, I bet you're wishing I’d put my fingers back inside of you right now. Shall we check my theories and bring you some relief?”
No one had ever read her so flawlessly. He was right—about all of it.
“So you see, darling, I won’t treat you like a princess, or an heiress, or whatever you think you deserve, because I don’t care about society's expectations for you. I only care about my expectations, and you’re going to meet every last one. You’re my new personal toy, and I’ll show you exactly how men like to play with their toys. We’re destructive, and we love exercising power over others.”
She couldn’t look at him, let alone draw a full breath. “Not all men are mean.”
“Speak up.”
“I said, not all men are mean.”
He laughed. “There’s a lie. Men are mean by nature, which is why they’re refined from birth.”
“You obviously weren’t.”
“No, but they tried. At least with me, you get honesty, unlike those gentlemen you’re used to, the high society ones who act civilized but secretly mistreat their wives and blame life’s little pressures for making them snap.”
Leaning forward, he possessively glided a hand over her knee, and she stiffened. He applied no pressure or force but gave her a commanding look. Her knees parted slowly.
He chuckled. “See how easy that was? The least you could do is be honest with yourself and admit you're interested to learn what I can teach you.”
She was intrigued, but deep-rooted shame prevented her from admitting such truths, even to herself. She thought about Peter’s duality and how he performed so easily for society. Then she thought of how disappointed she was when his true selfishness came out.
“I can admit I’m curious.”
“How refreshing.” He leaned forward, his thick hair spilling like ink on a page as his honeyed voice dropped another degree. “Some men try to trap and hide their shadow-self. I embrace mine by letting the darkness run free. Wouldn’t you prefer to feel what it’s like to free all that trapped wickedness inside you?”
A hot flush burned her cheeks as he pulled back his chair. He stood in one fluid motion and went to the dresser.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re a good girl for me.”
She watched as he methodically removed the leather belt. Stripping away his weapons made him no less intimidating. At his core, he was a primal force, now unencumbered and perpetually untamed.
He was so fluent in her body’s responses that he didn’t need to look at her. “Your heart’s beating faster now, isn’t it, darling?”