Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“You asked for bacon on your burger.”
My jaw clenches at my mistake.
I can see laughter in his eyes as he speaks, but I know better than to think he’s joking right now.
“I’m not sucking you off for bacon,” I say, torn between wanting to take a step back or standing my ground as to not show further weakness.
His laughter washes over me, and I wonder just how much the abuse I’ve suffered in my life has scarred me when the sound of it sort of thrills me. It doesn’t have a sinister edge to it. I’m not comfortable enough however to actually think he’s laughing because he feels joy. The man may not draw blood by striking out at me, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe either.
“Eat with your legs spread,” he says, offering up his demand for the barter.
“Fine,” I say, stepping to the side of the table opposite of him.
He laughs again, but it has a much different edge to it than the first chuckle did.
“We sit on the couch, remember?”
I glance over my shoulder. The couch he’s referring to is actually a two-person settee that barely holds the two of us when our legs are closed. It would be impossible to sit beside him with my legs open and not touch him. It makes me too vulnerable. It would make him draw more conclusions than I care to explain right now, things I don’t understand myself.
“I’ll sit here so you have room,” he offers, pulling out the chair I usually sit in because it gives him a better view into the living room.
“Fine.” I huff, taking the burger and fries from his hand when he offers them to me.
My hands are trembling as I cross the room.
“Forgetting something?” he asks when I sit down and immediately start opening the wrapper on my burger.
I spread my legs a mere few inches, grateful for the single lamp he has in the room. I can see that it’s casting shadows on my body, making it virtually impossible to get a good look at what he desires.
I clamp my legs closed when he stands and walks into the living room.
He doesn’t reference or reach for his erection on his prowl in my direction, but I still jolt when he reaches for the lamp, jumping in fear when he pulls the shade from the top.
He has a victorious look in his eyes when he positions it a mere foot from my leg.
“Spread them,” he commands, that growl in his voice making my body respond in the most confusing way. “Better yet. Lift your feet and rest them on the edge.”
It’s almost enough to make me throw the burger and fries at his face, but that feels too much like defeat.
I lock eyes with him, challenging him, but he doesn’t mind losing that tiny battle as I lift my legs and his eyes drift down my body.
Cool air hits my sensitive skin, making it very clear, incredibly quickly, that my body is responding in a way I don’t understand to his commands.
I know it’s a way to condition me. I know just looking eventually won’t be enough. It’s proven by him making me do this when just this morning for breakfast, sitting naked was enough. Things are escalating. His commands will grow more perverse, and although him telling me that I could stay dressed if I sucked him off was a mere suggestive challenge, I know eventually it may come to that.
I blame my mouth watering on the burger I’m lifting to it rather than the thought of his fingers tangled in my hair as he forces me down on his dick.
The food is absolutely delicious, the bacon crispy and perfect, the fries salty and fresh.
It takes me a long moment after my food is gone to realize my legs are still pulled up and spread for him to see. I drop my legs, and he doesn’t start to eat until I do.
I watch him take a bite.
I watch him lick ketchup from his fingers.
I watch him from the living room as he eats his entire meal.
It isn’t until he stands and gets rid of his trash that I realize I sat here naked the entire time he did it when normally I’d get dressed the second the barter ended.
The glint of victory in his eyes as I pass by him to grab my dress tells me he’s well aware of it as well.
Chapter 19
Hollis
I grunt through my orgasm, my fist brutal as I draw all the cum from my balls. Painting the shower floor isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this every fucking day, but the woman is driving me fucking insane.
I swear my cock threatens to refill with blood at the memory of her legs spread on the couch. I tilt my head to the ceiling, staring at the stains there, trying to forget the way her pussy glistened with her own arousal.