Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
“I am able to make decisions for myself, you know.”
“Good to know,” I answer. “But right now, you’re not.”
I watch her perfect pink lips tighten as she ponders a response.
She answers, but instead of using words, she crinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. My reaction is that the hard-on I’ve been fighting ever since I saw her tents the front of my pants.
I can already tell this sweet, too-fucking-young beauty is going to bring out those parts of me I’ve tried for so long to keep hidden.
I hope she’s ready, because I know I am.
CHAPTER 4
JACKSON
“Clancy is bringing the car around. I’ll take you home.”
I don’t give her any option. My personal physician has given her the all-clear. We’ve been here at the hospital for two hours while he checked her over—under my supervision, of course.
I did some deep fucking breathing exercises while he examined her, because even though the logical part of me knew he had to touch her to take care of her, I still wanted to tear out his windpipe with my teeth. But he did what I needed him to do, including a cat scan and an MRI just to be sure.
Even in the awful hospital gown she’s wearing, Chastity is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She’s gripping the top of the sheet into her tiny fists as she looks down at her feet wiggling under the bedding and replies, “I don’t want to impose.”
“There is nothing about you that could possibly impose.”
Her teeth cut into her bottom lip and my heart slams viciously against my ribcage, threatening to batter its way out. I want to be the one biting those lips. I want to be the one licking every inch of that body until every sting is forgotten. I want to taste her, inhale her scent, and then bury my face between her clenching thighs to drink her sweet nectar straight from the tap.
My cock twitches, hard and trapped down the left leg of my pants.
“Okay. It’s just, I need to get dressed…” She eyes her clothes, which I’ve laid out on the little half-sofa in the private room I insisted upon.
“What’s stopping you?” I play, wanting to see that innocent blush ripen her cheeks.
I’m rewarded with deep crimson as she tips her head to the side, while I lean against the wall, unmoving, pondering if I should turn around, step out of the room, or just see what she does.
“Nothing, I guess,” she finally answers, flipping back the covers and swinging her legs off the side of the bed, standing there with a flicker of defiance in her eyes.
“Good girl,” I answer, her blazing green eyes latched to mine. I’ve never said those words before. I’ve dreamed of it, fantasized about it, but here with Chastity it feels perfect. “Would you like me to turn around?” I ask. As much as I want to see every inch of her, unwrapping this gift is something for which I’m willing to wait.
She nods. “Yes, please.” Her eyes are still on mine and it’s like tearing a limb off as I break our connection and turn to face the wall. “Thank you.”
Her voice strums a chord deep inside me and my dick refuses to behave as I stare at the wallpaper, counting the tiny dots that make up the abstract light-blue pattern, trying to keep myself under control.
I listen to the sounds of fabric rustling, clenching my jaw as I keep counting.
“Okay.” Her voice finally releases me from my wallpaper prison. “You can turn around.”
When I do, she steps forward, stopping a few inches in front of me, then turns around and the control I’ve mustered nearly snaps. I use up what willpower I have left to prevent the cum shooting out of me like a lightning bolt from my balls.
“Can you zip me up?”
Fuuuuuuck me. I just jizzed in my pants a little bit.
The dress is open down her back, exposing flesh that calls for my mark and confirming what I assumed earlier when I saw her for the first time: she’s not wearing a bra.
I drag the backs of my fingers down the indent of her spine and she stops mid-breath. Goosebumps rise under my touch, and I’ve never thought of a woman’s back as a masterpiece before now. So simple. So perfect.
She tenses as pull the zipper. I feel a sense of loss as the fabric closes, the view of her skin taken from me too soon.
“Thank you.” Her voice is a bit breathless as I finish, turning around with an unsure smile as she steps over and picks up her pink and green striped canvas purse. “I guess I’m ready.”
Her eyes flick to mine, then to the door of the hospital room.
“Me too,” I respond, knowing I’m not just ready for us to leave this room. I’m ready for so much more.