Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Do you trust me?” he growls, watching me closely as the knife travels past my risen, hard nipples and down my ribcage. Each time it descends over one of my ribs, electricity sparks beneath my skin, traveling straight to the middle of my thighs. I swallow, my chest rising and falling, the silence between us prickling and filling with our electric energy of lust, passion, and obsessiveness.
“In this context, yes,” I answer truthfully.
His eyes narrow briefly. “I'm not touching that right now, but I will.”
As quickly as the subject was raised, it's forgotten. Sharp edges continue down my ribs. His body lifts off of me as he peers up from under his thick lashes, his stare Woodsman-ish and needy. He licks his bottom lip before running the tip over the area where the top of my thigh meets my centre, and I throw my head back, taking in the sensations, the danger. Do I trust him with a weapon down there? Not really, but I figure if he wants it to be fully operational, he won't damage anything.
Then his mouth covers my clit, cloaking it with its warm, slick blanket, and my back arches. The blunt side of the knife presses against my inner thigh as he opens my thighs wider.
His tongue slides over my clit, his bulky arms rippling under the pressure of keeping my legs open.
I relax.
“Shut your eyes, baby,” he whispers, the vibration of his deep voice pressing against my thigh.
I sink back, my spine pressing into the hard surface beneath me as my eyes flutter shut. Cold silver glides over my most sensitive spot, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt of fear through me.
His finger slips inside.
“Hux,” I breathe, my voice barely a sound. “I'm... I'm...”
Warmth replaces the cold steel, hot and relentless, and then the wooden end of the knife sinks inside me.
My toes curl, thighs quivering against the cold granite as lightning races through my veins. I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood, my vision swimming behind clenched eyelids.
The metal slides away, leaving emptiness. A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me, surprising us both. I slap my palm over my mouth. Hella flicks his wrist—the knife skitters across the floor with a metallic scrape. His hands find my hips, calloused fingers digging into soft flesh as he drags me forward, leaving a damp trail across the polished surface.
I plant my palm against the wall of his chest. “Wait.”
He freezes. A muscle in his jaw twitches beneath stubble. His pupils swallow the blue of his eyes, leaving only a thin ring of colour. Sweat beads along his hairline, plastering dark strands to his forehead.
My bare feet hit cold wood as I drop to my knees. His skin radiates heat against mine. I hold his gaze while working his jeans open, finding nothing underneath but him.
Figures.
His fingers twist in my hair with just enough pull to make me gasp.
I lick my bottom lip, teeth catching it, tilting my head to take him in. He glistens with moisture, and I take him between my lips, circling the smooth surface of his head with my tongue, savouring the salt-sweet taste mingled with a trace of soap.
A moan escapes me, sending vibrations through his flesh as I cradle him with both hands. I set a measured rhythm, careful and deliberate.
His sharp intake of breath breaks into a guttural sound that ignites something primal inside me.
I want to dismantle him piece by piece.
I increase my pace, feeling him pulse against my tongue. The first hint of his release slides down my throat. I tighten my grip, matching my mouth's movements to my hand's, feeling every ridge and vein. He's too much to take completely, but I'm drunk on the need to witness his unravelling. His surrender. And I want to be the cause of it.
Each groan I pull from him, each moment his eyes cloud with heat, it feeds something starving inside me.
I'm addicted to this control.
To him. To us.
Hot cum hits the back of my throat, and I take every bit of it. I wait until he's done, then ease off with a soft pull on the tip of his still-hard cock, catching every last drop that might've slipped out.
His eyes peel open. “I need to kill whoever taught you how to suck cock like that.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Chill, it was porn.”
“Porn?” he asks, surprised.
“Well, let's pretend it was.” I pat his chest softly.
His eyes narrow as he pulls his jeans back on. I'm impressed that he's still hard. Scared a little, but impressed, nonetheless.
I quickly shove on my Levi's and t-shirt. After raking my hands through my hair and pulling it into a high ponytail, he takes my hand in his, tugging me toward the stairs. “Come. I'll show you where you won't be sleeping.”