Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
The way he worked his fists up and down that thick cock, and shit, from the angle I was taking it in . . . Fuck me. I got it all, and if I weren’t so gobsmacked by the sight, I would have raced in there at the very last moment just to capture a face shot.
Is that too much? Yeah, it’s too much. But I’ve said it now, and there’s no take-backs. I might as well own it.
I, Kiara St. James, have been frothing at the mouth in this cardboard box for seven straight hours, desperately wishing that one day, I might be so lucky to receive nothing less than a cum shot right to the face by none other than Raiden Kane.
Okay. It’s official. I’m a whore for this man. A greedy, desperate whore with absolutely no shame, but I’ll die before I ever let him know it.
Hearing his soft, repetitive breaths, I decide he’s finally been asleep long enough for me to sneak out of this cramped box. I don’t waste a single moment, pressing my hands up against the folded tabs and slowly pushing them open.
With freedom only a breath away, I get to my feet and carefully climb out of the box before dropping straight to the ground to crawl my ass out of here. Only as my knees hit the floor, I see a full take-out container resting on the ground directly beside the box with a handwritten note scrawled on top.
In case you got hungry working up a sweat while watching me jerk off.
Bet you got wet all up in your tight little box.
Well shit.
He knew I was there the whole damn time. I bet he came out of the shower and figured it out straight away, that big asshole.
Frustration burns bright as it pulses through my veins, feeling as though no matter what I do, I’m always falling five steps behind this guy. It’s as though he can anticipate every move I make. And if he truly were some kind of mastermind assassin, I suppose that wouldn’t be so hard to believe.
Letting out a huff, I get to my feet. There’s no point trying to hide now, and as I turn to take him in, fast asleep on his bed, I can’t help but consider just how easy it would be to strangle him. I could just take his pillow and press it against his face. It would be simple. Clean. I wouldn’t even get blood on my outfit, and then all of my major problems would be dealt with.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” he mumbles, his tone thick with sleep and making my eyes widen with fear, that same racing panic returning tenfold. “Either climb in here and let me fuck you until we’re both utterly spent, or take your tight ass to bed.”
My hands ball into fists, my jaw clenched as the overwhelming need to throw myself at him and lose any sense of control threatens to consume me, but I manage to hold on to some semblance of control, grab the take-out container from the floor, and march across his bedroom, opening the window as wide and as loudly as I can before stomping out onto the fire escape and leaving the window open behind me.
Asshole. Asshole. Asshole.
How does he manage to get me this worked up every single time? He barely even has to breathe, and I turn into a raging mess. I’m supposed to be a highly trained weapon, yet around Raiden Kane, I’m a boy-crazy girl desperate for his attention.
Fuck me.
What am I going to do? Hell, there is nothing I can do. Actually, I take that back. There is one particular thing I can do. It’s not a long-term fix, but it’ll sure help me feel better tonight.
And with that resolve, I climb back through my bedroom window, take my ass through to the kitchen, dive through the massive purple gift box, and take hold of not only the most powerful vibrator it has, but the huge dragon dildo as well.
Then with everything I need, I take myself to bed, hoping like fuck this is enough to help me scratch the itch that Raiden Kane and his massive, veiny cock have left behind. And this time, when he hears me through the wall, I hope he suffers the same way I have, knowing that no matter what, he can’t touch this. Not anymore.
My phone chimes from somewhere in my apartment, and my eyes spring open to a brand-new morning. Judging by the dull light shining through my window, it’s early. Really fucking early. I grab my pillow and pull it down over my face before a loud groan tears from the back of my throat.
It’s too early to be awake.
I’m definitely not a morning person, but I’m also not somebody who is capable of going back to sleep after being woken. It’s a real issue that I’ve been trying to work through for the better part of twenty-four years.