Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Thank you.”
“We’ve done your discharge paperwork so you’re free to go whenever. Not that you have to rush.” She gives Warren a look before she leaves the room again.
None of this is making any freaking sense. I don’t know why he’s doing this.
“What is it going to be, Leila?”
“I don’t think I really have an option,” I say dryly.
“You made this bed.” He leans down close. “Now you’re going to lie in it.” He pushes back. Was that supposed to scare me? Because that’s not what it did. In fact, it did the exact opposite. I bite the inside of my cheek. My body always has all these desires when Warren is near me.
“Get dressed. I’ll dismiss the cops.” He strides from the room, shutting the door behind him. I sit up and do as I was told for once. I’m not exactly sure how Warren is going to manage to dismiss the police, but he somehow does.
He even gets to walk out with me. Not a single person says shit as we get in the car. I stare out the window. He reaches over and pulls my seatbelt on before he takes off.
“Who helped you do this?” I don’t respond. “You’re not going to answer my questions?”
I shrug. I have no freaking clue what I should be doing. The more this weighs on me, the more I’m thinking Chris lied to me about things. Guilt starts to nag at me. My eyes fill with tears. I keep my face turned away, not wanting him to see them. I thought I was avenging my father’s death, but all I was doing was the dirty work for Chris. How could I have been so naïve?
I try to get myself under control as we enter Warren’s place. The door shuts with a loud click behind us.
“How is your head?” he asks again. I’m surprised he even cares. I’m pretty sure I’m only here for an interrogation of some sort. I think maybe I should lay all my cards on the table. Find out what really happened to my father.
“Fine.”
“Good.” He grabs me by the wrist and suddenly pulls me into the main living area.
“What are you doing?” I try and pull back, but it’s no use. I let out a gasp when he wraps his tie around my wrist.
“I can get you to talk, Leila.”
I glare at him. “You better not do it.”
He smirks, turning me around to bend me over the sofa.
“Warren,” I try and hiss. He yanks my pants down, the cool air hitting my legs.
A whimper leaves me as his hand softly caresses me. There is no hiding that I’m turned on. I can already feel my thighs getting wet with my need. Still I try and push back.
“What are you going to do? Spank me until I can’t take it?” I look back over my shoulder at him.
“I’m going to spank you. That’s a given. But it’s not how I’m going to get you to talk.” His hand slips down my thigh. A sound from deep inside of him comes out sounding almost like a groan when he feels how wet I already am.
I try to push down on his hand, needing the pressure. Two fingers rub my clit before he’s pulling his hand back.
“No,” I whimper, needing him to continue what he was doing.
“That’s how. I’ll have you begging to tell me everything.” I close my eyes tightly, knowing that he’s right.
The question is what happens after he gets all the answers he wants from me? Will he toss me aside the same as Chris had? Why does it feel like him doing it is going to hurt a hell of a lot more?
Chapter Eighteen
Warren
The only sounds in the room are her heavy breaths and the echo of the slap of flesh on flesh. Her round buttocks quiver on my lap.
“What do you want, Leila? Do you want more of this?” I raise my hand and watch as she tenses, anticipating the next strike. She was crying that I would spank her until she gave in, but that’s no punishment. She wants it so bad that her juice is dripping out of her. I fist my hand in the air above her red ass. “No more until you start talking.”
“I don’t have anything to say,” she retorts. Her words are sharp, but there’s a suspicious quiver in her tone, and I’m not sure whether it’s fear or desire. It could be a dangerous mixture.
I was angry before. Angry that she deceived me. Angry that I allowed myself to be fooled, but through that fury, I saw her terror. She wasn’t afraid of me hitting her but of something else, but she won’t admit to what that is.
If I fuck her, as soon as the orgasm wears off, she’ll be as closed-mouth as ever, and we will be back where we started, so I can’t give in. No matter how hard my dick. No matter how painful the ache. No matter how badly I want to shove her legs apart and thrust inside of her hot, steamy cunt, I cannot give in.