Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“What does that even mean?” I gasp the question as he whacks the spoon across my cheeks again, giving me two sharp, harsh slaps on each side.
“It means speaking with respect.”
“What did you do to Dave?” I am almost scared to ask the question. I have a horrible feeling deep in my belly that Dave is not okay anymore. “Is he still alive?”
“What was he doing here, Laura?” The question holds no overt judgment, but I know it’s dangerous.
“He probably just wanted a place to crash. He’s kind of a loser and he relies on me to help him out when he fucks up his life.”
“And you allow this?”
“No. I told him not to come, but he never listens to me.”
“That was a mistake,” my stalker says, rubbing his hand softly over my ass. “Don’t worry about Dave,” he says. “He will not be bothering you anymore.”
“He didn’t deserve to die,” I whimper.
“You should worry more about yourself, and less about a man who wields a weapon sloppily,” my stalker says. I wish I knew his name.
He spanks that thought out of my head, starting over again. This might have begun as a punishment, but right now it feels more like he is trying to brand my fucking ass.
“Next time I give you a gift, you accept it gratefully,” he lectures.
“I could never have afforded the gas, let alone the insurance on a thing like that,” I argue.
“I would have paid for both.”
“Why? Why do you give a fuck about me? What’s wrong with you? I’m nobody.”
“Oh, Laura,” he says. “You’re not nobody. Far from it.” He smooths his hand over my ass, then smacks it hard enough to make me yelp again.
“That’s not an answer!”
“You’re not ready for answers. For the moment, you need to just be a good girl for me.”
I reach up and try to grab his balaclava off, but he grabs my wrist and pins it behind my back while landing a whole new series of slaps on my already aching ass.
“Stop!”
“Not until you submit,” he growls. “I’m getting far too much attitude from you.”
I stop talking at that point. It’s not doing me any favors. He has all the power, all the knowledge, and most all the money. I still have thirty grand. Maybe I’ll use it to hire a private investigator. Not my dumbest idea.
Long, powerful fingers clench in my hair as my head is pulled up.
“I can hear those thoughts,” he purrs softly. I know he can’t possibly mean that literally, but in this moment it really feels like he might. “I know you haven’t truly submitted to me.”
“How am I supposed to submit to you when you’re a stranger who seems to be a heinous criminal?”
So much for keeping quiet. He chuckles and stands up, lifting me with him. I find myself tucked under his arm almost as if I weigh nothing. I have seen people struggle with sacks of potatoes more than this guy has trouble picking me up.
He carries me to the bedroom, where he puts me down on hands and knees and proceeds to strip my clothes off me in that very practical way he has. His palms grip my hips for a long, slow moment before he pulls my underwear all the way down my legs and discards it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, standing over me as I crouch in this animal position. His voice is full of true admiration. I’ve had previous partners who never seemed as impressed with me as this man does. “Look at you. Look at the curve of this sweet ass…” He runs his palm over my still aching cheeks.
“Spanking you is a pleasure,” he growls. “You were absolutely made for it. That might be why you are so infuriating. You know you deserve it.”
I let him say whatever he wants to say, and I let him touch me. My body has responded to the stimulation of the spanking again, from being touched and held and carried around. Whoever this man is, he triggers some intensely base impulses in me.
His big hands take me by the thighs and spread them. I hear the sound of his zipper going down, and there is a moment of anticipation in which I know he is about to fuck me. It feels like time slows almost all the way to a halt as I wait to feel the thick head of his cock pressing inside me again. He doesn’t use protection, because nothing will protect me from him.
It takes longer than I thought it would. He has one hand resting lightly on my hip, keeping me in place but not with a very tight grip. He expects me to stay in place and take my fucking.
“Are you ready?” He growls the question.
“No,” I whimper, though it’s not really true. I am absolutely yearning for him. My arousal has made any sensible concerns about this predicament completely melt away. I’m not thinking anymore. I’m just feeling.