Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“Ahhh, Jesus.” Being reprimanded makes him pump harder, faster, his sweat falling onto my shoulders and back now, our flesh meeting in slippery smacks. His hand leaves my throat, dragging downward to knead my jostling breasts, then lower to my belly. He digs his fingers into it and grinds deep, deep inside of me. “You will carry my children here, lass. They’ll be born with the devil’s mischief in them, because of your torture. The way you boil my come before letting it out. You’re a bad girl. You’re a bad little angel and I fuckin’ worship you for it. I worship you.”
My muscles seize up around him, warmth gathering around the place where our bodies meet and God, oh God, I didn’t think it could feel even better than the first time, but somehow it does, because there is no hesitation in either of our movements. We’re pursuing with singlemindedness, no apology, no stopping. Grinding and sliding and creating friction with our sexes, teeth gnashing, fingers scrabbling on stone. My orgasm tears a wild scream from my throat and I shove my butt back into his lap, my knees lifted off the ground in a rough slam and his heat floods me, too, his beastly bay of relief echoing down the hallway.
“Thea!”
“Duncan. Duncan.”
My sob is interrupted when he pulls out of me, still spilling his thick, ample seed, and rubs the head of his erection in a very different spot. There. At my back entrance.
“No permission,” he growls in my ear.
And then he uses the lubrication from our lovemaking to press into me, stretching me in a way that feels wrong and right at the same time. His flesh is already growing hard again, his breath hot in my ear. I played games with this big, powerful man, and now I’m getting more than I bargained for. But I can’t help but crave the illicitness of what he’s doing to me. The taboo nature of it, this giant, so much older and bigger than me, pushing into virgin territory on the stone-cold floor. Using my body. Taking ownership of it.
“I wanted to pull down your panties and play with this tight little hole while you slept. Barely resisted, didn’t I? Not resisting now, though. You’re getting my cock here, lass. Every filthy bit of it. I’d get my balls into your ass, too, if I could fit them.”
My mouth is open an inch from the floor, sobbing, turned on to a piercing degree.
I didn’t imagine him standing there in my bedroom at night.
Looming over me.
Looking his fill. Wanting to do much more.
While I sleep innocently below.
I shouldn’t like it so much, this revelation. I shouldn’t love it, but I do. I want his obsession. I want it to break loose and run free. I never want it to be tamed.
Duncan makes a low keening sound and pushes the remaining distance into my rear, panting above my head, rocking into me once, twice, making me cry out, my knees scrabbling on the stone floor, until his heavy hips drop and pin me. Giving me no place to go. No way out but to scream while he bucks into my backside, assaulting me—and I beg for that assault brokenly, twistedly begging for his harsh lesson. I wanted this. I tempted it. And it’s glorious.
“My giant,” I whimper, rolling my forehead left to right on the cold floor. “My king.”
“Mine,” he grunts, picking up his pace. Slap slap slap. “MINE!”
When he comes apart this time, there is an added satisfaction to it. The fact that I survived the second round, the harsher treatment. The fact that I sacrificed for his pleasure the way he sacrificed for mine all day…it breathes more life into me, until I’m floating. I’m floating, listening to him shout his way through another climax, his big chest hollowing and expanding against my spine. My own sex is triggered by his pleasure, flexing in a rough, almost painful orgasm, my screams joining his loud curses, my buttocks rocking back into his lap shamelessly.
And then I collapse, spent, my mind a void.
Duncan scoops up my limp body, cradling me to his chest like a rag doll, making soothing sounds in his throat, his mouth moving over my face, kissing, smelling my hair.
“I love you,” he breathes, bringing my eyes open quickly. Finding his shining down on me with reverence and passion and vulnerability. “I love you, angel. I’d die for ye.”
Continents move in my chest, unlocking the truth. Unlocking everything. “I love you, too, Duncan.” A wildly happy laugh releases in a rush. “I love you.”
We hold each other for long minutes, both of us wrapped in wonder, our hearts knocking rapidly, hands smoothing over sweaty skin. I’m happy. I’m happy. I didn’t even know what that meant until now, but there is still a pinch at the back of my neck. A warning that I can’t really name. I just know there is more. There is something ugly just out of view.