Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“Got it.” I hold out my arms for a hug, squeezing her tight. “I’m proud of you. You’re getting better with the whole animal phobia thing every day.”
“Thanks,” she says, a self-conscious grin on her face as she pulls back from the embrace. “I still relapse every now and then, but I’m making progress. Slowly, but surely.”
“And you should feel good about that. So many people with phobias never get past them.” I blow her a kiss and head out the gate. “Be back around seven to pick up the feather babies.”
She waves. “See you then.”
As soon as she shuts the gate behind me, I turn and run back to my car as fast as my legs will carry me, feeling a tiny bit guilty for dropping the turkeys off earlier than I absolutely had to, but too excited about my pre-Thanksgiving surprise to feel too bad. But I definitely don’t want Wren spotting me from next door at her place and asking me to come over for coffee or to see the new outfit she’s made Keanu for the family celebration.
I adore my sister—and her and Barrett’s whacky dog—but I have other plans this morning.
Plans with my man, my best friend, and the only person I’d ever buy a barbarian warrior princess costume for.
I’m not sure when Christian told me about his “forced to pleasure the lady warlord fantasy,” but it’s been swimming around in my head for weeks now. We’ve both been so busy with work—me ramping up for Furry Friends’ winter fundraisers and Christian starting his new job at the brewery—that there hasn’t been as much time for elaborate role play.
We’ve still been getting busy on the regular, and I have zero complaints about my fantastic sex life. But I want to show Christian that I haven’t forgotten how much he enjoys a little extra spice. And that I intend to keep seducing him for the foreseeable future.
Hopefully, for the rest of our lives.
I can’t imagine loving another man the way I love Chris, a fact I prove once I’m home and have changed into my fur bra and leather loincloth with the matching fur and leather boots. I tease my hair into a wild tangle of fluff around my shoulders and smear mascara on my chest and cheeks for makeshift war dirt.
Bella wanders by the bathroom at one point and chirps in seeming amusement, before yawning and toddling into the master closet where she likes to sleep in our dirty laundry during the day. She’s a darling girl—even if she does have a weird affinity for stinky sweat socks and underpants—and I’m so grateful to be her mom.
I’m also grateful that she seems to understand when Christian and I want privacy and makes herself scarce—no more appearing under the covers for post-coital licks, though she does occasionally crawl into bed with us before morning. But that’s okay. Since Kyle and Penny have taken to sleeping in an extra-large dog bed in the laundry room, there’s more room in the bed than there used to be.
Though I don’t intend on using the bed today…
As soon as I hear the front door close, signaling Christian’s back from his morning run, I grab my plastic battle axe and head out to meet him in the hall.
The moment he locks eyes on me in my wild getup, he breaks into a smile of surprised delight. “Oh no, Lady Warlord,” he murmurs, kicking off his shoes by the door, “please don’t kidnap me and force me back to your tent to pleasure you all night long on a bed of furs. I’m sweaty from my run and have a very serious girlfriend.”
“I couldn’t care less about your sweat or your woman, captive,” I say, fighting a grin as I wield my plastic axe menacingly his way. “I want a child and you’re the first man I’ve come across in years in this dark forest. You will fuck me until I conceive, or your cock falls off in my bed, but be sure of this—I will have a baby from you.” I hesitate before adding in a more sultry tone, “And…my pleasure.”
His breath rushes out as he murmurs, “Fuck, you’re hot.”
“To my bed!” I shout, herding him into the living room, where I’ve turned out all the lights, made a makeshift “tent” out of several sheets draped across the furniture, and arranged flickering electric candles around the fake fur blanket I bought on sale last week. “I want you naked and hard for me, captive.”
“Yes, mistress, right away,” he says, stripping out of his running pants and shirt with an enthusiasm that makes my nipples tighten in my furry bra.
Damn, this man looks good in nothing at all.
I can’t help grunting, “You’re a fine specimen, captive. I think you’ll make strong, sturdy offspring.”