Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“That’s better.” I climb back on top of her and smile as she licks her lips. “Now you’re really mine.”
A little twist of her nipple causes her to arch against the restraints, twisting her body perfectly. The little whimpering noise she makes tightens my balls and gives me the cool clarity I love. I twist again, harder, and she bucks against my thigh, pressing her bare pussy against the rough fabric of my overalls. She hungry.
When I spread her thighs again and dip low, she smells ravenous.
Pushing my tongue down through her slit, I press into her hole, curling upward. Her legs snap in, thighs pressing against my ears, and I moan long and deep. Fuck. This is everything I missed. Everything I couldn’t bring myself to believe would ever happen to me again.
I have a woman, bound and captive. She’s mine to own. Mine to bend and break. Mine to ruin. And I’m only getting started.
I lick and suck, flick, and tease, relishing the little panting sounds she makes and the creaks of the bed as she tugs against the restraints. When she trembles and her hips thrust up, I keep the same rhythm and push two fingers inside her, curling up, pumping in and out. She’s so close. So close. With my free hand, I reach up to twist her nipple again, and she goes off like a rocket, gushing between my fingers, clamping down hard in rhythmic pulses that trap me inside her.
Between my legs, my cock is leaking pre-cum, my balls aching and tight, and I’m singularly focused on my release, but before I think about what I should do next, the sound of the key code being tapped in on the outer door cuts through the rumble of the TV and Lory’s frantic breaths.
Someone’s coming, and I need to know who it is.
7
LORY
CAPTIVATING PLEASURE
Kinkaid is up and off the bed as I come down from the blissful orgasm he coaxed out of me like a master magician. My head is still spinning, lights flashing behind the darkness of my eyelids. When he pulls his fingers from inside me, I curl onto my side, panting, sweating, trying to catch my breath.
No one has ever made me come like that before.
Not with their tongue. Not without knowing me for at least a few weeks and with my firm direction and the assistance of my own fingers. It’s like he could sense what nudged my arousal little by little, rolling the snowball of pleasure until I got bigger and bigger, tipping down the hill to finally break.
My god.
He releases my bindings and strides through the door, shutting it decisively as I open my mouth to ask him what’s going on. I grab the shirt he gave me before he poured suns and moons and angel-song into me, tugging it over my head.
It’s long on me, reaching mid-thigh. Not long enough that I’m comfortable walking around without panties. Mine are on the floor in a scrunched heap, and not for the first time, I regret not picking a nice pair of simple white cotton underwear that would have been more practical to wash and wear for thirty days.
The warden’s words pop into my head about not needing many clothes. If the other men are anything like Kinkaid, he will probably be right.
Shoving my legs into my tangled thong is easier said than done, and I’m embarrassed about how cold and wet it is against my flesh. When Kinkaid leaned back against the door, watching me with his liquid blue eyes, my body primed in an intense new way. I mean, I’ve always liked men with tattoos and mean mouths. I’ve always loved men who crackle with dangerous static. My terrible choices are why I’m in this mess without a life partner to help me with its challenges. Some of my school friends are married to stable blue-collar husbands who’d likely drive across five states to collect their destitute sisters, but me? I end up on my back on a prison bed, getting given the most magnificent oral by a man who looks like he wants to make me his next dinner.
Kinkaid has the look of a Navy Seal or a Marine, not a criminal, although what he just did to me felt like plundering.
He could be a murderer, but I push the thought away, fearful that fixating on what put these men in jail will paralyze me.
Leaning forward, I peek around the door, watching Kinkaid speak in a low tone to Warden Grady. He has some things in his hands that he passes across, then steps into the room to look around.
“She’s getting changed,” Kinkaid says. Grady must be looking for me.
Stepping into the main room, four sets of eyes find me immediately. Hyde blinks fast, licking his lips as he rubs the tattoo that climbs up his neck. Rock shifts forward, his gaze dropping to take in my bare legs, still elongated by my ridiculous shoes. Kinkaid studies me like he’s checking for my emotional state. The man is wound tight enough to snap.