Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Clothes that don’t rustle and rubber soles on your shoes?”
“Exactly.”
We sit in silence for a moment while he runs his fingers through my hair. Finally, he breaks the silence.
“I’m heading down to the target range.”
“Aw, without me? No fair.” I’m only teasing him, though, and he knows it. Other guys play video games or watch YouTube to relax. Cain hones his skills at the target range. It’s no wonder he’s such a good shot.
“We’ll go back tomorrow. I’ve got a new toy for you to play with.” Given how he uses the range, he could mean anything from a new handgun to a new riding crop.
I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, though. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead before he leaves, and after I hear the door close behind him, I fall into a deep sleep.
Hours later, I hear the door open, and roll over. The room’s gotten cooler, and I shiver before I draw the blanket up over my shoulder. Cain quietly dismisses the guard he keeps at the door when he isn’t with me—both his sister, who lives here with us, and I always have a guard with us—and closes the door behind him.
“How’d it go?”
His voice is raspy and low when he responds. He hasn’t spoken for hours, and he’s tired now, too. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
I prop myself up on the pillows and open one eye. “I was, but you know this is my favorite part of the day.”
Even in the dim light, I can see the smile that ghosts his lips.
“Snuggling in bed with me?” Cain doesn’t “snuggle.” He kisses, he caresses, he holds me tight, but “snuggling” is too gentle a term for a man made of steel and iron.
“Nah,” I say with a wink. “Watching you strip.”
I’m not lying.
He’s already stripped down to a T-shirt but still wears his dress pants from earlier in the night. I watch in silence as he sits on the edge of the desk chair and unties his shoes. Next, the socks, and his belt. I swallow when he folds it before he lays it over the back of the chair. I have vivid memories of what he’s done with that belt.
I watch as his clothes fall to the floor and pool by his feet, marveling at the harnessed strength evident even in the darkened room. A glint of moonlight illuminates the wide breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles of his arms, the defined planes of his chest and abs. My eyes travel down to his thick, muscled legs, planted like two trees on the ground.
“We should go apple picking,” I say absentmindedly.
“Apple picking?” He quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.
“Yeah, apple picking. Like, you go to the orchard and pick apples. They have things like hayrides and apple cider donuts and scarecrows.”
“Babe, it’s November. You have to do that in like… September.”
I sigh. “Oh. Right.”
He shakes his head and continues to undress. “What brought that up?”
“Just imagining climbing up on your back and using you like a ladder.”
“Violet.”
I swallow, my mouth dry. He says one word, and my body starts to heat.
I close my eyes against a rush of emotion and need. I love when he says my name. It’s sweetness and seduction, like chocolate-dipped berries.
“Yes?”
“We don’t need to go apple picking for you to climb me.”
Aw, fuck. I was tired, and now I’m very wide awake. I swallow. “I know.”
I continue to watch him in silence. By the time he’s stripped off the tee and stands only in his boxers, I’m on fire.
“Come here,” I whisper, gently stroking the side of the bed. He gives me a curious look, as if not sure he knows how to take a command from me. He’s usually the one giving them, so I decide to play nice. “Please, Cain.”
A little thrill ripples through me when I realize he’s actually doing something I asked him to. He sits quietly on the edge of the bed just like he did before he left, but this time, I slide out of bed. I position myself between his knees and gently pry them apart. He’s already hard, already eager, and when I stroke his erection through the thin fabric of the boxers, my mouth waters.
“Hands behind your back,” he says in a low command, as he gathers my arms and places them at the small of my back like I’m stretching for a yoga class. “Keep them there, baby.”
Baby. I melt.
I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. Never have, never will. I write my own rules and fight my own battles. But when Cain Master gives me a command, my knees buckle and my legs turn to jelly.
He’s the only man I’ll ever submit to, and he knows it.