Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"You okay?" she asks.
I swallow, contemplating telling her to pull me down, but I know how that goes. I'll go to him at his table, and he won't say a word to me. If I stay, although I'll have to endure more people touching me, I know when it's nearly over, he'll stand, approach, and light my skin on fire in a way I've never felt before until that first night I saw him.
I dip my head, letting her know I'd like to continue. She takes a few steps back before returning to her spot ten or so feet away.
The people who frequent the club enough know that there are attendants for every scene taking place. It's as if they're a silent warning that the rules will not be allowed to be broken. But I know there's always an off chance someone will risk their membership to fulfill a desire they can't seem to fight, and it terrifies me that my rules may be broken at any given moment.
Then again, I guess that could also happen in an uncontrolled situation. It's better for me to be able to deal with it when it comes than to freak out, which could lead to further injury or victimization.
My mind races with thoughts and fears, but then I find his eyes again and then silence.
It should be terrifying the way just the sight of him calms down certain fears inside of me.
I keep repeating that your body knows when someone is there to hurt it or help it. Those sixth senses are pertinent for survival, although many people have lost them over time.
I see the second his eyes cast down to his watch as if he's been timing my session on the cross, and my skin tingles when he drains his glass before setting it on the side table and standing.
The guy sitting beside him, a man who was introduced to me as Lark at the cabin they all share, just now notices me. I watch his mouth form the word motherfucker, before he reaches out in an attempt to grab Jersey's arm as if to try and deter his approach.
My stomach flips as the man pauses before looking down at his friend.
The stare-off is weird to watch, but Lark eventually lets go of Jersey's arm and sits back on the sofa, a frown on his face.
My insides feel like they're getting ready to rebel against their restraints and come pouring out of me as he approaches. I have no idea what the conversations about me have entailed. No one back at the cabin has mentioned my time here, but I doubt they've stayed silent about my attendance.
I lick at my dry lips as he closes the distance between the two of us, but it provides no relief as my breathing grows raspier.
He circles me, his method of operation not changing from the other times he was here with me.
He doesn't lead with his touch, and something about it sets my body on fire.
Arousal I've only ever felt when I'm alone coats my skin, and I find it impossible, tied to this cross, to close my legs to ease the ache between them.
It scares me more than anything else, the sensation that if he chances a look, he's going to be able to tell his effect on me. It makes me feel even more vulnerable than I have with any other person coming close to me during these sessions.
I blow out a long breath, my lips forming an "O" around the release, only to suck another one in when his shoulder brushes my body.
The touch felt unintentional, but I don't know that there's a single thing this guy does without determination.
"I need you," I whisper before I can stop the words from leaving my lips.
He stands right in front of me, his gaze locked on my eyes so intensely that I fight the urge to look away.
He shakes his head, rejecting me.
My eyes burn with the threat of unshed tears, but I still can't seem to look away from him, no matter how painful his rebuff is.
I hate the feel of the single tear rolling down my cheek after it breaks free from my bottom lashes.
"Please," I whisper when he reaches up and pulls the wetness from my face.
"It's forbidden," he returns, sounding as forlorn as I feel.
It makes perfect sense that he would be told to stay away from me, but the idea of outside forces controlling my personal life, especially after the connection I have to him, makes me borderline rageful.
Of course, my life would guide me straight to someone I can't have. That's the kind of luck that I have.
"No one has to know," I barter, knowing better than to even make the offer.
"Sweet, sweet Caitlyn," he whispers as he lifts his hand.