Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“I want you to cum for me again. And I’m going to sleep beside you, all night. If you try anything, you will regret it. But if you keep being good…” He strokes my folds lightly, and I sigh as my pleasure rises.
In no time, he has me panting again. He tells me about the things at the foot of the bed—the rope, the gag, the nipple clamps. “They’ll pinch like this,” he says and closes a thumb and forefinger around my left nipple. The pain sends a pulse of desire between my legs.
My mouth falls open. I can’t believe I’m responding like this. Then he flips me over to my front and smacks my ass. I shriek into the pillow, but he follows it up with a deep massage. “So perfect for me.” His thumbs run up the length of my spine. Goddess help me, I’m putty in his hands.
He makes me cum again with one hand shoved between me and the bed and the other clamped on the back of my neck, pushing my face into the pillow. I can’t decide whether I like this way better than the first.
By the time he grinds the base of his palm into my clit, grounding me, I’m boneless in the bed. He turns me back over and arranges me on the pillow, and I’m too limp to move.
“You earned this.” He stands up and shoves his boxers down. His dick springs free. That bulge was not lying. He’s big and long, and it hurts just to look at.
“You can’t touch it. Not yet. But that’s it, lick your lips for me.”
He’s still ordering me around. It should be annoying, but every command makes my body pulse with need.
He brushes his fingers against my sex and uses the moisture to wet his dick. It’s so hot, I’m trembling. I watch him fist himself, jerking off. The muscles in his arm and chest ripple and flex. I can’t look away.
Finally, he plants one knee on the bed and lets his cum spurt onto me. I gasp, but it’s too late. He’s already sprayed onto my belly, a few drops glazing the shallow between my breasts.
I can’t believe he came on me. I touch the pearly substance. It’s still warm from his body but rapidly cooling.
He puts his hand on my belly and rubs it in. The look on his face is reverent. “There. Now we can go to sleep.”
14
Kaiser
* * *
“Good morning!”
I wake with a jolt. Bella leans over me, a big grin on her face.
I slept in. I never sleep this long. My body feels heavy, sluggish, like I slept too deeply. That’s not like me. My twin brother says I sleep like a wolf, in ten-minute naps between long stretches of being alert. I learned to sleep this way on the streets—it saved my life more than once—and the habit stuck.
Strange that I’d let down my guard so much with the Poisoner’s daughter. She’s not to be trusted. But my body felt otherwise.
Not only did I sleep, but I also spent the whole night in bed with her. I’ve never spent the night with a woman. I don’t share my bed with anyone. Ever. A woman is a warm hole I’ll use for a few hours, then never speak to again. I don’t allow them to touch me, and I don’t cuddle. I’d rather be stabbed in my sleep.
But with Bella, it’s different.
It was a first for her, too. At first, she was restless, and it was obvious she’s used to having the big bed all to herself. Every time she rolled over, her arm would fly out and her hand would smack me in the face. I tucked her into my side, holding her until she settled. I expected to hate being skin to skin, but instead, it felt right. I didn’t even feel the urge to push her away after a while. No, I pulled her closer, wanting more. Finally, I gave in and dragged her on top of me.
Her weight felt good. Too good. So I slept hard.
I haven’t slept so well since I was a small child. Or maybe ever. Jaeger and I didn’t feel safe in our home long before we ran away.
It’s dangerous to sleep so deeply. Bad things happen when you’re dead to the world, vulnerable. My heart is racing now, responding to the threat.
I need to get up fast. I’m supposed to be keeping tabs on my little bride, and who knows what sort of mayhem she can get up to in the quiet hours of the morning.
“I made you coffee.” She holds out a blue mug.
The coffee smells amazing, but there’s an oily sheen on the surface. Probably poison. She serves this to me while my arm is bright red from the rash that weed gave me last night. It probably hurts like a burn. Just because I can’t feel anything but numbness doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what she did.