Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I pull on the bindings. I can’t seem to help myself. Logically, I know I won’t be able to just shrug these ropes off, but the physical reminder has my heart beating faster. My skin tingles in a way that is entirely too pleasant, and I clench my thighs together.
“There she is.” His hands close around my shoulders, and he pulls me back against him. My hands brush against his hard cock, but with my palms pressed against each other, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about the proximity.
Hook palms my breasts. The ropes crisscross above and below, leaving my breasts to hang freely without restriction, but it suddenly feels like he put them on display on purpose. Of course he did.
His rough palms drag over my nipples, and I fight down a moan. Every part of me feels overly sensitized, as if the calm during the binding only masked a growing desire I have no way to control now that it’s been released.
He rotates us to face the full-length mirror near the wardrobes. This time I can’t hold back my moan. I look—I don’t have the words to describe how I look. The dark ropes contrast my pale skin, and the lines frame every dip and curve of my body. Parts of me that I love and am self-conscious of, depending on the day. It’s a relatively simple pattern, but it still feels like he turned me into art.
Behind me, Hook is watching me with dark eyes that are so hot, I might combust on the spot. He holds my gaze as he plucks my nipples, the sensation so acute, it’s almost painful. “I’m going to bend you over my bed and fuck you until you can’t do anything but come.”
I suck in a harsh breath. I knew this would happen, of course. But the dark intent written across his face truly highlights how helpless I am in this moment. He can bend me over any surface, and I won’t be able to do anything but take what he gives me. Hell, even if I lost my mind and tried to run, it’s not as if I can work a doorknob with my hands bound like this.
The flicker of fear the thought brings only heightens my desire. I’m well and truly at his mercy. “Do it.”
“Not yet.” He steps away from me, and I almost stumble from the absence of his warmth at my back. I watch him in the mirror as he moves to the foot of the bed and flips up the comforter to pull out a bench that had been tucked beneath the frame. He hauls it over and sets it down behind me. “Sit.”
The command is deceptively simple. With my arms pinned, my balance isn’t quite what it should be, and I have to move slowly to avoid toppling over as I sink onto the bench.
Hook runs his fingers through my hair, slowly, methodically. I want to make a joke, but I can’t quite find the breath to do so. Not with him touching me almost reverently. This shouldn’t be enough to count as foreplay, but with every motion, I have to fight not to nuzzle against his palm like a cat seeking pets. His touch finally shifts, and I force my eyes open to watch him braid my hair back from my face.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I don’t mean to ask the question, but I don’t mean to do a lot when it comes to this man.
“There’s little more annoying than getting hair in your face when you can’t do a damn thing about it.” He finishes the braid and smooths a hand over his work. “And it’s important to me to see every single reaction on that expressive face of yours, especially when we scene.”
“Oh.” Suddenly I feel a whole lot more naked. “Do you normally put this much thought into a scene?”
“Yes.”
That makes me look at him more closely. I’ve … misjudged him? I always knew Hook hid a lot behind that arrogant charisma, but I’m only beginning to realize how much.
He stops in front of me and sinks to his knees as gracefully as any submissive. The thought makes me snort. “You’re supposed to be the Dom. On your knees for no person and all that.”
“You know better.” The look he gives me has me squirming on the bench, though I can’t say for certain if it’s because I’m ashamed of my shit talking or simply a sheer bolt of lust. He pushes my knees wide and makes a sound as he looks at me that confirms… Yep, sheer lust. That’s what I’m feeling right now.
Somehow, my mouth keeps going even though my brain has long since shorted out. “Do I?”
“I do what pleases me, beautiful girl. Right now, it’s seeing you all wrapped up in my ropes, and your pussy wet with desire for me. You’re better than a birthday present.”