Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
The only clue I had was the hard cock, barely contained by his pants pressing between my thighs.
Warm breath ghosted over my throat, and then—a wet mouth was on my nipple, sucking and pulling at the sensitive flesh gently, almost reverently.
I lurched backward, trying to break contact, ignoring the way my blood heated at the touch.
The move cost me a hard slap to one breast, then the other, before a hand grabbed the collar holding the hood to my throat and pulled me back against my assailant.
I felt rather than heard the growl vibrate through his chest. His hands dropped down and gripped my waist, strong and possessive.
It was Pavel.
It had to be.
No other man could growl like that and have my body respond with tight, hard nipples, softening stomach muscles, and a warming core.
The man was dangerous, depraved, and had a control over my body that defied logic and every survival instinct I had.
Why did that thought calm me?
Why did it matter?
The mouth returned to my breast, his lips, teeth, and tongue sucking and nipping at the puckered flesh while his thumbs rubbed small circles on my hips, making my body buzz with heat.
It was strange to be unable to see or hear and be left only with touch.
His warm hands running up my back.
His hot mouth on my breast and the subtle growl as he pressed his cock against me.
My body pressed down.
I didn't mean to.
I didn't want to, but still my hips rocked, looking for the friction that would satisfy us both.
My mind spiraled in a thousand directions. Was this it? What was he planning on doing to me? Was he planning on fucking me before he killed me? Was he planning on keeping me? If he kept me, what would he do with me?
Surely, he didn't need me to be some kind of arm candy or bed warmer.
Pavel was attractive, powerful, and seductive.
If the whispers from the other cleaners were true, then he could get any woman he wanted. Willingly.
Why would he take me? Why was this happening to me? What was he going to do?
The more thoughts that raced through my mind, the harder it was to breathe.
A cold sweat broke out over my back as I tried to slow my thoughts.
My skin was over-sensitive, every soft touch of air, every shift of the car, every movement of his hands or his tongue against my flesh—it was all too much. Too overwhelming.
I wanted to scream but couldn't.
I wanted to fight past him, but there was nowhere to go.
There was nothing I could do but endure and pray for a quick end.
Would some poor, unwitting soul come across my body in a year chained in some long-forgotten basement when Pavel tired of me? Or would he do something else, something as threatening as making me fuck a gun, but that ended in death before the orgasm?
Was this how I died?
In some kinky fantasy that could only be born in the mind of a madman, the brain of a monster?
Something pushed inside of me.
I stiffened. It was thicker than what I experienced before, still firm, but more giving, and warmer.
When it curled to press into my G-spot, I realized it was his fingers and not his gun again, or some other weapon. Still, his fingers were merciless, the way they stretched me, pressed in deep and rubbed the most sensitive parts of me.
Once more, I held my breath.
Before, I had feared losing my virginity to a weapon.
Now, I feared he would discover I was untouched.
He was going to feel how innocent I was, and I didn't know how he would react.
Would it make things worse?
Men like him valued virgins in the world of sex trafficking.
Would he keep me alive just to sell me?
I didn't know what would be worse—being killed and left like trash on the side of the road, or being sold into sexual slavery.
Tears soaked the hood's fabric as my body betrayed me by tightening around him, my arousal coating his fingers, making them slick and their intrusion so much easier.
He said something. The rumble of his voice pressed into my breast before his teeth pressed into my skin. I had no idea what he said. A part of me was desperate to know.
Did he call me his good girl again? Did he say something about the way I took his punishment? Or did he like the way my pussy was pulsing around his fingers? Had he figured out that his gun was the first thing that had ever penetrated me?
Why did this damn hood have to be so thick?
With a shaky, hard-won breath, I shut those questions down and tried to distance myself from all of this. There was nothing I could do yet. I needed to save my strength.
I tried to think about anything else. The dancers had told me how they survived working in the club, doing the shit the vampires paid extra for by not really being there.