Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
“I was mad at you,” I admit.
“I know, darlin’,” he says, nodding, rolling his forehead over mine. “And that’s why the very first thing I need to do is to pay my dues. Get down on my knees, worship you like the princess you are. Until you realize that’s where you have me, now and always. At your feet.”
I shake with emotion, clench my eyes shut for a second before whispering, “You forgot one thing.”
“What?”
“Your ring on my finger.”
He goes still, his chest pausing mid-breath and his features freezing.
I’m not deterred, though as I say, “The girl of your dreams. She gets that, doesn’t she?” I don’t expect him to answer, and he doesn’t because he’s still busy being frozen when I continue, “So, first you’ll apologize and I’ll forgive you. In my own time of course. And then, you’ll take me out on a date.” At this, his breath hitches, but still I keep going as I wrap my arms around his neck, “To a nice restaurant. You’ve always watched me go out with other men, haven’t you? Looking in from the outside, so now you’ll be there at the table. With me. We’ll eat good food; you’ll share your wine with me, even though I’m not allowed to legally drink yet. And then, you’ll get down on one knee and ask me to be your wife. In front of the whole wide world. And I’ll say yes because that’s all I ever wanted. To be yours. To be that girl for you, to be with a man who makes me feel alive and safe. Who gives my heart wings. And I’m scared that it’ll all go away one day because of my dad, but I’m not going to let that stop me from being with you. Nothing can stop me from being your princess.”
“I love you,” he says, or more like blurts out because he couldn’t keep it inside.
I know the feeling because I reply in much the same way, “I love you too.”
And then, my Phantom kisses me, and I kiss him back because I’m his Princess and we’re fate.
EPILOGUE
Eight months later
I’M TIED UP.
My hands are above my head, stretched out and bound together with a rope to the ceiling and I’m standing on my tiptoes. Even though I know it’s not going to make any difference, I still twist my wrists in my bonds. I still wrap my fingers around the rope and pull at it, as if I’m expecting it to break free. Every few seconds, I also try to find better balance, better purchase on the floor, but when I say I’m standing on my tiptoes, I mean on my very tippy-toes. As in, my toes graze the concrete floor but don’t hold.
Meaning I’m free-floating, and God, it makes my belly thrum. How little control I have over my own body.
Not to mention how little I can see right now. The barn isn’t completely dark, but the light is dim enough that there are more shadows than I can count. More dark shapes around the room, along the walls and the floor, than puddles of light. And I know, from one of those shadowed corners, he’s watching me.
My Phantom. My hunter. My husband.
I can feel him running his green eyes along my frame, tied up like his prey, pausing in places. Mostly at the racing pulse on my neck, my heavy tits that shake with every breath I take, the curve of my belly and that aching place between my thighs. Aching and swollen and wet. And he’s been doing that for so long that I’m impatient. Well, I was already impatient when it all started, but I’m even more so now.
So I decide to up the stakes a little. He may not be very happy about it, but I need to draw him out of the shadows, bait him. I need him here, with me, in me. Touching me, playing with me, not just watching. Grabbing the rope again, I try to tilt my hips, making a figure eight in the air. I arch my back and thrust my tits out and moan. I also whimper and whine as I call him with my body because that’s all I can do.
I can’t actually call him because he has me gagged as well.
“You think that’s gonna work on me?” he asks, his voice hard and coming from the shadows, hitting me right at my center, making me gasp.
A second later, I gasp harder because he finally emerges from the dark, all six feet and some inches tall and broad. His bulk and muscles, bare and bathed in the flickering light of a lamp lit up in a corner. I’ve always known my husband is a mortal built like a god. Beautiful and strong, his body bronzed and scarred, laying testament to the fact that he really is the strongest man there ever was. The one who fights bullets and fires and still comes out alive. But naked like this, with every single inch of his body on display, he even puts the gods to shame. And on top of that his large hand is wrapped around his thick cock, his thick and hard and dripping cock, as he strokes it lazily while prowling toward me, and I swear I drool a little. I probably also have a spontaneous orgasm, but I’m already so wet and throbbing, I can’t be sure.