Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Carson,” I groan when he bites my neck again, fear and pain and arousal joined together with every bite, nip, and lick. He releases my hips and drags his thumb to my clit, circling the slick bundle of nerves as he thrusts his cock in me again. I drop my head to his chest, overcome, as he expertly masters every nerve in my body.
We rock in perfect rhythm, and his mouth and hands roam all over my body, suckling, biting, grabbing, taking. My pulse races when he draws my nipple in his mouth, biting down with the hardest thrust of his cock into my core. I whimper and moan, gliding along with him as I ride him.
“Take it,” he groans in my ear. “Every last fucking inch in that tight cunt of yours.”
I whimper and roll my hips.
“Don’t you dare come,” he growls. “No coming until I tell you.”
“Or what?” I breathe, craving even more control.
“Or I’ll cane that sweet pussy of yours and make you come over and over again until the sun rises.”
If he was trying to talk me out of this, he used the wrong tactic.
I can’t stop myself from coming even if I wanted to. Spasms have already started low in my sex, and with one more swipe of his fingers, I lose all self-control. I chase release with my head thrown back and his mouth on my lips, panting and writhing, my sex clenched around his thick cock, spasming as he continues to thrust.
“Naughty little girl,” he growls. “You’ll pay for that.”
He reaches for my face, cups my jaw, and drags my mouth to his as he comes. He moans into my mouth as his hot seed spills inside me, his thrusts harder, more vicious than before. He loses himself inside me but remains in control, and when we’re complete, he stands with his cock still inside me.
“I told you I’d punish you,” he says, shaking his head. His forehead’s dotted with perspiration, his slightly curly hair a little damp. My own body’s a mess. I’m trembling and aching, little red marks all over my shoulders, my neck, my breasts.
“You didn’t say you’d punish me,” I whisper, my breathing still labored with pants. “You said you’d cane my pussy and make me come.”
A corner of his lip quirks up. “The cane’s always punishment.”
Well I didn’t know that.
“But I’m sort of a kink virgin,” I try to explain. But it’s too late. Joined together, he walks me to the bed and lays me down. He draws himself out while I watch. I’m still trembling in the aftermath of climax as he walks to the bathroom and returns with a washcloth. Silently, he cleans me, his eyes on mine.
“I always mean what I say, Megan. Always.”
I nod silently. I’m not sure how to respond. I swallow and nod again.
Wordlessly, he zips up his trousers and walks away. Now that the heat of the moment’s gone, I wonder if I’ve pushed this too far.
How well do I really know him? Yes, he’s a man of the Clan, best mates with my cousins, but I had no idea he was a kinky bastard behind closed doors.
What else about him do I not know?
He’s opening drawers and closets and arranging all sorts of things. And I lie on the bed. I wait. I try to take in details in his room, but I can’t see much in the darkness. There’s a dim light on the bedside table and in the closet, but the door to the bathroom’s shut. What I can tell is that this room is impeccably clean. I wonder if he’s a neat freak.
It’s also completely devoid of anything at all sentimental.
No knickknacks, no drawings from his daughter, no pictures or framed prints on the walls.
“Hands above your head, please,” he says. I’m still fuzzy headed from the drinks, and I’m already getting used to doing what he tells me, so I obey.
“Good,” he approves. “That’s much better now. Now that’s how a good girl obeys. Very good.” Soft restraints are on my wrists, then my ankles, until I’m spread out on the bed and under his mercy. I’m still in the blissful aftermath of my climax, when I realize he’s returned with a slim, slender rod in his hand.
“Um. What’s that?” I ask in a rush of words so it sounds more like “wazzat.”
“A cane.”
I look down at my body spread out on the bed, my curves on display with nothing to cover me but the assortment of red marks he’s left, and I realize how fucking vulnerable I am. I begin to tremble.
“I think I need another shot.”
“I think you need to be taught to mind.”
A shiver skates through me.
He stands over me with the cane, a glow of light illuminating him from behind. He crosses his arms on his chest and walks around me, like a sexy version of a professor pacing in a classroom.